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deanbrainrotwritings · 7 months

Text

— KEEP THE LIGHTS ON

SUMMARY : “Hi!! First time requesting a fic so if this is dumb.. well yeah. A fic where Dean and the reader are about to do it (😏😏) and hes very focused on her thighs/hips area and she's got stretch marks there and he traces/kisses/grabs them? It's rough, intense, and passionate? 😳😶 okay love you and your writing byeee 🏃‍♀️” — anon

PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : none

WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), smut, as always unspecified skin colour and weight (lol),

WORD COUNT : 2.0k

A/N : close your eyes song title. I loved this request as soon as I got it, and that’s why it didn’t take long! I’ve seen some stretch marks are lighter than the skin and others are darker than the skin and also that they feel like grooves so, I hope this is okay! *insert Scott Pilgrim and the L-word scene bc I can’t say ILY* AND HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY Xx

You’d never been so comfortable and confident with a man before. Comfortable with yourself. Confident in your own skin.. Every insecurity you had in every other aspect of your life, sex-releated or not, flew out the window because you knew Dean.

He had a way of making you feel beautiful all the time. Either with his facial expressions when you caught him staring, his words when you were alone, his actions at any chance he had to get his hands on you. He was very expressive, wordlessly so, and gesticulating.

You had to get to know the real him to understand him and, you know… he’s complicated. He’s guarded, but beneath all that there’s a soft centre to him, like a brownie. And overall, he’s sweet and good and soft. Perfect. Like a brownie.

Eventually, getting a read on him gets easier, but not entirely easy. Which is why he was currently taking your breath away with his lips moving down your neck and his hands tangled in your hair as he guided you down the hallway to his room. But only after admitting he’d been wanting to get you in his bed for years and you’d be damned if you let your fears and worries get in the way of getting your first taste of him after pining for him almost as long as he’d carried a torch for you.

You had to be stupid to believe that Dean was shallow and cared only about a woman's appearance or attractiveness. You never thought you weren’t enough all those times Dean left with or hit on any women but you. All you thought was that he simply didn’t see you that way, which was only half of the truth. He wanted something more than one night with you and he just didn’t have the guts to tell you so.

But tonight, after a sleepy hangout at the Dean Cave, after watching a variety of movies that Dean liked—movies he excitedly wanted you to enjoy as well when you said you’d never watched them before. And then going to the kitchen to get more snacks for the next film…

Well, you don’t really remember what led to it, maybe you said something in your exhausted state. Or maybe he did. You had a feeling that if you made the first move and confessed something you wouldn’t have in the right state of mind, he’d hold it over you and tease you about it—if everything went well.

Or maybe it was just a buildup of every little thing that the two of you shared with each other and all the history and all of everything else that you were.

Now that you had his mouth on yours, quick and firm and desperate for attention and for a taste of you… You had a feeling making your stomach flutter. To some extent, the two of you were very aware of each other’s feelings and still decided to do nothing about it.

What a waste of fucking time.

Still, something about waiting made this much more intense. Your skin ignited at his touch when his fingers snuck up into your shirt. Your flesh became warmer and warmer after each rapid heartbeat, excitement from his wet, breathy kisses. The air in your lungs failed to escape correctly, failing to reach the full capacity of oxygen the more thrilled you became.

You wanted to devour him whole. But all you could do was kiss him back with as much passion and fervour as you possibly could. Your palms smoothed up scarred skin, flushed and warm and taut. Your nails scratched and your fingers tugged at anything of his that you could hold onto.

When you got to his room, he’d made your head spin more than it already was from his kiss when he pushed you into his bedroom door to shut it.

“Sweetheart,” he moaned against your mouth and your breath audibly hitched. The sound of his voice, the way he spoke that pet-name to you made your stomach clench and your clit throb. Or maybe it was the way he pinned your lower body to the door with his hips and the way he held your gaze when he flexed his hand beneath your shirt, his fingers spread across your ribcage.

His other hand moved back up to your cheek and his thumb brushed against your cheekbone. Your lips parted at first when he did that and your eyes searched his curious eyes longingly, but he seemed to be on his own mission. You bit your lip anxiously instead as you attempted to maintain eye contact, your cheeks burned when his green eyes dropped down to your lips. All you could feel was his erection pressed into your soft skin through the flimsy layers of his pyjama pants.

And then his cock twitched.

It was driving you crazy.

Being this close to him felt like a chemical reaction. You bubbled as he came into contact with you and you could probably evaporate into nothing if you were just a reactant. You never thought you’d feel consumed entirely by a person as if they were a reagent. You’d be embarrassed if it were anyone else but Dean who made you feel this pathetic.

Your eyes reacted faster than your body when Dean dove back down to capture your bottom lip. He sucked on it softly and rolled his hips into you and you breathed shakily against his mouth at the combination of pleasant sensations that occurred simultaneously.

You buried your fingers in his hair and then you felt his own gripping your hips tightly. God, you wished he’d dig into you and mark you permanently, but instead your thoughts ran through the imaginary engine of a plane and turned into smithereens when his tongue entered your mouth.

He lifted you up and his hands slid roughly from your ass to your thighs. You clung to him and kissed him hard, pouring yourself wholly into the kiss until he drunkenly stumbled to his bed and dropped you into it. All the while, he was still completely attached to you and getting more desperate now that you were as malleable as dough in his expert hands.

He pulled away from you breathlessly, lips parted and wet and red and perfectly kissed. His cheeks puffed a little and he had a tiny smile that shined mostly in his eyes when they fluttered open. You thought you’d be sucked right into his dilated pupils as he admired you beneath him, but he went right back to your neck and your cleavage while his hands pushed and pulled away at your clothes to get you naked.

For the fraction of a second, your body snapped out of the trance he’d placed you in when you felt his fingers trace and dip gently into the marks on your skin. The magic was gone only for a few moments when you opened your eyes to him between your bare legs, he looked up at you in surprise. Surprised at your reaction.

“What?” He frowned at you. The cute pout made your eyes brighten and your body relaxed once more as you smiled down at him.

You were hesitant and he was patient. And then his expression mirrored yours, smiley. But he was so soft, with those crinkles at the corner of his eyes, and those dimples above his pillowy lips. He didn’t even make a big deal out of it and that made you release a soft breath and with it, the tension disappeared from your body.

“Are you sure?” You asked him, pressing your teeth into your bottom lip. He lifted a brow at you before both brows came together in amused confusion. He slowly pulled himself up your body and shamelessly dropped his hips at your centre, practically grinding his covered erection against your bare, wet core.

You inhaled sharply and he smirked at you. He slid his forearm up beside your head to balance his upper body above yours and continued to brush his thumb against the lines you were more than familiar with that resided at your hips.

“Wanna hear it explicitly, is that it?” He murmured, his tongue dipping out to pull his lower lip into his mouth. Then he planted his teeth on the shimmering, plump flesh. What a journey.

You were amused when your eyes flickered back up to his and you pulled your own lip between your teeth. He was cocky and maybe it didn’t help that you were a mess beneath him, but you couldn’t help yourself.

“I’m gonna fuck you hard in my bed,” he told you. Your eyes widened slightly and you breathed unevenly as he rocked his hips against your heat. “But first, I’m gonna memorise every inch of your body and I’m gonna make you wait ‘til I’m satisfied. And only then,” he whispered, dropping kisses along your cheek and jaw, “I’ll give you what you want.”

You licked your lips and allowed Dean to move lower to pepper kisses along your breasts until he slowly made his way back down between your legs. Part of you wanted to whine when he brushed his fingers over your stretch marks again, but there was something about how casual he was about them that made you want to see where this was going.

“What do I want?” You grinned down at him just as his lips made contact with the lines in contrasting colour to your skin. He smirked and looked at you through his lashes. His warm breath tickled your thighs when he chuckled and you shivered, bumping his bicep playfully with your knee.

“Me, I hope,” he answered, almost bashfully. He buried his fingers into your hips and pulled at your skin, following the lines that decorated your body while keeping his eyes on you. You squirmed as he continued to touch and mouth at your stretch marks. “But mostly, my dick.”

You laughed, “what?” And Dean nipped at your hip, along a few lines on either side of your body and your body shuddered pleasantly.

“You asked what you wanted. I said: me and my dick,” he recapped for you playfully. You rolled your eyes at him, but you couldn’t help smiling. Dean went from playful to sexy and dragged his lips down your pelvis. Your hips wiggled in anticipation and your breath became shallow, but Dean only breathed against your soaked cunt. “If… all ‘a this proves anything.”

The warm air slipping between his lips aroused you to the point of wanting to pull his face between your legs and trap him there with your thighs. You felt yourself turn hot at his words, both from embarrassment and from lust.

“Dean, please,” you begged with a whiny laugh.

Instead of replying with something witty, he swirled his tongue around your entrance with a moan. You felt his spit and you held your breath when he flatted his tongue and dragged it up to your clit. You closed your eyes and arched your back when he sucked and flicked the tip of his tongue against your clit.

And then it was all gone and your body became loose once more. You opened your eyes to Dean pulling his shirt over his head, exposing the freckled skin you’ve always wanted to kiss and mark with your mouth when you patched him up on hunts.

Before you could get your hands on him, he got out of bed and pulled his pants and boxers down his legs swiftly. He barely gave you time to see, to admire what you came to accept as the prettiest cock you’d ever seen.

“I told you,” he smirked, slipping between your legs and lowering himself on your body to kiss you. “I’m takin’ my time.” You groaned in protest against his lip, but eventually every complaint you had on taking it slowly dissipated from your mind as he pushed and pulled at your body in ways you didn’t think you’d liked until he began working your body.

You didn’t want to admit it, but dammit… Sex with Dean was better and more satisfying than the sex you had with any other man.

You couldn’t tell Dean that. Never. It’d go to his head. Rightfully so, but still. All you could think about is the embarrassment he’d cause you to feel by reminding you, every chance he had—with that smug smirk of his—about how good you said he makes you feel. Better than any other man.

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whateverisbeautiful · 2 months

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♥️Reveling in Richonne - TOWL

#3: The Getting Back To You (1.01)

gif cred: @andy-clutterbuck

Let me just start this one by saying - we been knew. 👌🏽 We knew Rick’s sole focus would be getting back to his wife and daughter, even when some incessantly begged to differ. But in case anyone didn’t believe it back then - something I’ve always applauded and will always appreciate about the character of Rick Grimes is that he too is gonna let everyone know that Michonne is his everything and the one who's been fueling him to get home. She is home, so it makes sense. And in these next few scenes, Rick’s letter voice-over makes that sentiment loud and clear...

So Rick wakes up from his dream and just has a quiet lonely moment to himself in his room. And then we hear him speak and I love that he’s speaking to Michonne. As he’ll say later, this is the only way he’s able to feel something in the CRM, by reaching out and speaking to his wife. 🥺

And as he’s forced to endure another day in the CRM, he lays in bed and even sorta holds himself in a way that reminds me of when Michonne held herself on their bed after putting on his shirt.

These soulmates and even their subtlest parallels move me. We know from the main show Rick and Michonne are so used to waking up in each other's arms and it’s almost like now they both hold themselves in the way the other would have had they not been separated. 🥲

It’s also sweet and heartbreaking that both Michonne and Rick still talked to each other like they were still in every way partners while they were apart. Michonne did so by talking aloud to him in their bedroom and Rick did so in the abundance of letters he’d write to her.

Episode 1 really showed that Rick has stayed as deeply and loyally in love with Michonne as she was in love with him while apart. Like they both acted as though they were taken and fully married to each other still.

So with helicopters in the background, the voiceover starts with Rick saying, “I always thought I would wait to tell you everything when we were finally back together.”

This is definitely the saddest of the TOWL episodes and hearing Rick say he thought he’d be able to tell Michonne all these things in person when they were back together but now he’s realized he just has to tell her now in a letter he knows she likely won’t receive. 😢

One; I just know Rick is so aware of how much he and Michonne both long to be together. Like during season 9, their union was the most solid and flourishing thing in their life and then it was abruptly taken away and all they want is to get back to that.

Two; I also love how in these letters Rick was basically like 'I don’t care how much the CRM loves their secrets, I’m spilling all their tea to my wife. She gets to know everything y’all got going on because...

#DirectQuoteFromRicksMind 😋 (and that’s how we know it’s always an unhealthy Rick whenever he’s keeping things from her.)

And then he says, “That it’d just be a story on the porch after the sun went down when we could barely see each other.” So sweet and sad. 🥲 He was so convinced that this wild experience would be swiftly handled and he’d be home to her, likely never expecting it would take years and years.

I also love what he says here because I had hoped that TOWL would give us some little insights into aspects and memories of Richonne’s relationship we didn’t get to see on screen and I love learning one of their things was sitting on the porch just talking with each other into the late hours of the night. It reminds me of their canon ep and how they clearly always enjoy ending their day talking and decompressing together.

Rick says, “But I have to tell you now. Not everything. I can’t face everything.” as he takes out several letters and phones of Michonne and a younger and older Judith from the couch cushion. My heart. ❤️‍🩹 I love that he has so many phone drawings of his wife and daughter and their images are so accurate. Rick remembers his girls so vividly and clearly describes them well considering the artist even got the details right of how Michonne would wear her hair in different styles. 😊

gif cred: @kris-lulu

After being plucked from his home, these phone images are the only things really tethering Rick to who he is. 😢 He never made himself at home with the Civic Republic all these years and you see it through his barren apartment.

It’s not until he opens the couch cushion, where he essentially hides himself, that we see there is any true traces of Rick Grimes in this place, and of course, those traces are through illustrations of his wife and daughter and the letters he writes to Michonne.

It’s sad that he’s had to hide that part of himself to protect them. The hidden phones and letters feel symbolic of all the other ways Rick has had to hide himself in this place. And his wife and daughter are the most treasured parts of himself alive. They’re his heart.

The phone illustrations include the one of Michonne that Rick looked at in the teaser. One of older Judith in front of a home. (Idk how the older Judith image was so spot on but Benjiro did a good job 👌🏽) One of Michonne with her hair pulled back like she wore in s9. And my favorite - one of Michonne and younger Judith together. Just precious. 🥹 This family man Rick forever has my heart and his girls' forever have his.

gif cred: @kris-lulu

Rick makes the mindset he's held while he’s been away crystal clear when he says “This is most of it. But all of it, it was always about getting back to you.” It doesn’t get any clearer than that where his priorities lie.

It’s like I’ve said before - Michonne and Judith (and RJ he just doesn’t know it yet) aren’t just on top of a list of Rick’s desired reunions, they are the list. And I love how Rick wants Michonne to know that every single thing he’s done in the last few years was motivated by his desire and his fervent need to be with her again.

Even before the announcement of TOWL and before the trailers we knew Michonne would be a priority to Rick while he was away. Rick loved team family of course, but of all the adults in his life, Michonne is far and away the most important to him. Like completely in a league of her own. And just like how Glenn and Maggie were solely focused on getting back to each other after the prison fell (and Maggie had a blood sister missing and still was focused heavily on reuniting with her husband) of course Rick feels the same about getting back to his wife. The man is a family man to the core and that means his immediate family - his wife and kids - will always come first.

Rick goes on to say, “What happened on the bridge, I didn’t think I’d survive.” He then explains how he woke up in a military hospital to learn that an army with a force of thousands had found him.

gif cred: @taiturner

Rick let’s Michonne know about the military and the huge hidden city it protects. He tells her the army’s code is “security and secrecy above all...” And in some ways, Rick adopts that same line of thinking even when he reunites with Michonne. He becomes hyper-focused on securing her safety to the point that it makes him act out and keep secrets from her, thinking it’s the only way.

The letter continues with Rick saying “...so no one can leave ever." He further gives the rundown on the place and how the people they rescue have to work killing walkers for energy or growing food. And then we see Rick on his walker-killing shift as Okafor observes him.

gif cred: @arabellas

Rick explains it takes six years before people are accepted into the Civic Republic and during that time they’re called consignees. But he assures Michonne, saying, “And I was one of them but I was never gonna go in. I was gonna get away. I was gonna get back to you,” and then he passionately emphasizes that getting back to her is what he was determined to do.

This scene was giving love story and Rick is the greatest yearner to walk the earth. I love how adamant he is in saying that he was never going to lose sight of his ultimate goal and that’s getting to her. Again, not just home, but her.

Like had Rick escaped the CRM and made it to ASZ and team family told him 'oh yeah, Michonne and Judith live in Oceanside now,' Rick would be knocking on Oceanside's door before they could even finish the sentence like...

You know he'd be letting the ladies of the community know a man is now moving in lol. Because wherever his wife and daughter are is where home is. 👌🏽

Rick starts killing walkers with one hand and then he falls and Okafor approaches saying “Could have used the other hand, huh?” Okafor proceeds to say he came down here because he spoke with Major General Beale. Rick asks “About me?” And Okafor says “Yeah. You are lucky you have a friend in high places.” Rick casts some doubt saying “You’re my friend, huh?” as he continues working.

Okafor suggests he’s possibly the best friend Rick ever had for the way he’s lobbying the head of the most powerful military on Rick’s behalf. Rick isn't exactly moved by that and instead inquires about what caused the scar on Okafor’s forehead. Okafor says “Someone like you happened” as he segways to suggest Rick will be good for his program. From Rick's response, you can tell Rick doesn’t want to sign any papers in this place.

gif cred: @perryabbott

Okafor tells Rick “You think that staying out here gives you a better chance to get away. It doesn’t. It just gives you another chance to die. You may have noticed I don’t want to see that happen.” Rick listens but he’s really not trying to hear all that so he says he’s going back to work.

Okafor asks if he heard what he said but Rick cuts him off frustrated and says “You don’t have to do this anymore,” indicating this recruitment has been unwantedly recurring. Okafor walks away and there's a shot where you can see that a different person holds the kill record on that brick wall...but Grimes is about to change that. 👌🏽

As Rick’s letter to Michonne continues he says, “First time I tried, the army didn’t know what to do with me. Because no one tries to escape. No one wants to.” That’s because no one has a whole goddess to try to get home to like Rick. Just saying. 🤗

Rick expresses that he wasn’t sure if they’d put him in jail or kill him for escaping. And even that shows his immense determination to get home to her because, without even knowing what the consequences would be, he still had to take the risk and try to escape. He shares that Okafor convinced the CRM to make him a consignee and how even then he kept trying to escape. A determined king. 😌

Rick says, “But I couldn’t. I couldn’t get back to you. I kept trying to get away. So they put me on a leash when we went out into the world. I couldn’t get away. I couldn’t get back to you.” I love how often he says “get back to you” in this. That’s been the theme of his life these last few years. And as he says this he grows more frustrated killing walker after walker and declares “I was trapped.”

gif cred: @andy-clutterbuck

Rick ‘Built Different’ Grimes then takes out a ton of walkers one-handed before letting out a yell. (Also, I just noticed while Rick is killing all those walkers, the other consignees are in the back watching and cheering him on cuz he’s breaking the kill record lol. 😂 And Rick and Michonne really are cut from the same cloth cuz they both had consignees watching them in awe while they worked. The famous Mr and Mrs. Grimes. 😌)

Rick leans against the brick wall exhausted as his voiceover says Okafor protected him because he saw something in him and wanted him to join the army and his program “to use my life for them.”

Okafor walks up to Rick again and stoops down to say the line heard in the TWD series finale “There’s no escape for the living.” And Rick looks up at him like he wants to rip out his jugular.

gif cred: @andy-clutterbuck

Okafor says he left a uniform in Rick's apartment and adds “It’s time to accept things for what they are. It cost your hand last time. Next time it’s your life. Do something with it.” And as Rick sits against the wall breathing and upset he just looks so empty and exasperated by this existence. 😔

gif cred: @rcsitastark

Then he walks back to his apartment, scowling and covered in blood. Seeing Rick walk around like this, you can see how consignees and CRM folk might view him solely as a crazy gruff intimidating guy even tho we know him as having the biggest heart.

Rick takes note of a helicopter flying off with chlorine bombs and then Pearl Thorne makes her more official introduction to TOWL when she tosses a glass at Rick's feet, to which I was like, Thorne...

Pearl basically thanks Rick for showing her she can’t get away from this place and Rick just stays quiet as he walks back to his apartment as it's clear these two don't yet have a bond.

gif cred: @rcsitastark

Then in a moment of some excellent silent acting, Rick returns to the apartment and sees the CRM uniform on the table. He looks back out at the cold view from his window and I definitely get the sense that he loathes seeing that view every day. It's a reminder that he’s so far from home.

Rick proceeds to lean against the wall and then sits against it going through a gamut of emotions and walking the thin tightrope of sanity.

gif cred: @richardgrimes

He first closes his eyes and takes a deep breath and then he starts to laugh to himself before putting his hand to his head like he’s nursing a headache of conflicting thoughts and frustrations.

gif cred: @clonecaptains

He stands up and looks at the CRM gear and then angrily tosses the whole table and uniform showing he still wants to refuse to accept this fate. The poor man is going through it, and all alone. 🥺

gif cred: @nat111love

It's clear Rick hates so much about this place and the way it's kept him from the family that he needs to live. At this rate, I was like my gosh for Rick’s sake I hope there’s been at least one thing lighthearted in his life here because so much of his situation is depressing and heavy. And sure enough, there is at least one lighthearted aspect to Rick's time here and he goes by the name of Esteban Garcia. 👌🏽😌

#richonne #towl #reveling in richonne #1.01 #RIR (3)#the ones who live #twd towl #michonne grimes #rick grimes #rick x michonne #twol #michonne #rick and michonne #twd: the ones who live #twd #richonnefandom

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flippinpancakes64 · 2 months

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Hi! So, this is my first ask ever (kinda nervous ngl), but could you please write for the cullens with a succubus reader who is their mate? Maybe they're more like a Jennifer's body succubus? Thank you! (I'm obsessed with your writing btw)

The Cullens with a Succubus! Mate

Omg I remember the first time I did an ask I was like 12 and I was so worried I almost threw up. And then I got diagnosed with generalized anxiety disorder so

Anyway it’s been like four or five years since I’ve seen Jennifer’s body but I think I remember enough to do what you wanted.

For anyone who needs a rundown, a succubus is a female demon who visits men while they sleep to engage in sexual activity. Either during or after this, they kill the men by taking their energy or by eating them. The male form is an incubus, but mostly the same premise.

And thank you so much for the kind words! Thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy!

Edward:

Uhm he’s a little scared

He knows that you won’t hurt him

You have no reason to there’s nothing to gain from killing a vampire, it’s not like you can eat him and he doesn’t have any energy to offput

Doesn’t mean he isn’t a little freaked out

But after he gets over the initial terror he is intrigued

He’s never met a demon before

He’s a scholarly fellow as well, he wants to know everything about you

He is gonna have to ask that you find another way of feeding

He sees your hunting ritual as cheating so yall will need to figure that out

Alice:

Yes sign her up

She loves you

She is so entranced

She thinks you are so beautiful, and she thinks your feeding us is symbolic

And of course she’s not scared of you

She’s not gonna go with you when you feed

But she’s also not gonna ask you to change

She knows that that’s what you need to do, and at the end of the day you come back to her and those guys end up dead so

Jasper:

He’s met a succubus before

He used to think Maria was a succubus tbh

He is a little uneasy

But he gets over himself

Again he thinks it’s so cool that you’re so different

Obv he won’t join you for your hunting

That’s just dangerous for him since he’s trying to not drink human blood

And he doesn’t try to change you at all

Yk that twitter post that’s like “my bitch can do what she wants cause im scared of her”

That’s him

Rosalie:

Yes

100 times yes

She is a man hater (except for Emmett and Carlisle and sometimes Jasper and maybe Edward)

She’s a big fan of your work

And yes she wants to join you

She’s abstained long enough to not really feel the urge to drink from the men you kill

And she doesn’t care about the sexual aspect

She’s the one you come home to so ❤️

She might even have a couple of suggestions for you

“That dude there bumped into me on the street and didn’t apologize let’s go for him next

Emmett:

Yes one million times

We already know he has a thing for powerful women

This is right up his alley

And he isn’t concerned about you killing men, he’s already dead

And if you would have killed him while he was alive he would have died a very happy man

He might go with you sometimes just to laugh at the guy

And he doesn’t care about the sexual aspect either

Again, more of the “you come home with me so it doesn’t matter”

Esme:

She’s very curious

She’s never met a demon, nor did she ever think she would

She isn’t judgmental at first when you tell her about how you eat men

But then she learns about what you do to them beforehand

And yeah she views it as cheating

She’ll ask if you have to do that first, or if you can just eat them

If you can’t change then she will not date you sorry

But she will be your friend

Carlisle:

He has definitely met a succubus before

So he knows what he’s getting into

He views it as more of a necessity

Like he knows how you won’t/can’t change and he wouldn’t ask that of you

He’s very accepting

He won’t go with you tho

What you do in your free time is up to you

Leave him out of the ritual killing please

Vampire! Bella:

She’s a little weirded out

I mean she just learned about vampires and werewolves not too long ago and now there’s other stuff?

She’s over learning

But she thinks it’s super cool

She thinks it’s a bit weird that you have to have sex with them first

So you’re gonna have to explain that it’s not something you can control, it just literally doesn’t work if you don’t

So she understands

I think she’d go with you once or twice just to see what it’s about

But it won’t be a habit of hers

Overall she thinks you’re pretty cool

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thedarlingdearestdead · 1 year

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Distraction:

Summary: Confined to a room to catch up on paperwork, Anakin's ADHD brain won't let him function. He ends up just trying to distract you.

Warnings: None. Slightly suggestive? Mostly fluff.

Word count: 1,485

Anakin’s heart fell when he walked into the room. He had been sent to the offices over his holo, summoned by his Master. He had hoped it would be training, or a new mission, or maybe even a social call!

The offices were not his favourite place in the temple, so he didn’t go there often. Today they were occupied by a few different Jedi, all working away. It was a mind-numbingly boring place.

And alas, there Obi Wan was, leaning against his desk with an incredibly exasperated, disappointed look on his face. His legs were crossed in front of him and he stood with his usual air of authority and piety. The space was littered in papers.

Anakin swallowed and filled with dread as his Master raised an eyebrow at him. None of those folders had been so much as opened. None of the books read, or forms filled out. The pile was almost comically big.

In Anakin’s defence, he had been busy. But he also remembered his promise to Obi Wan upon taking the role of General in this war. That he would do it properly.

“So your holo is working then?” Obi Wan said, unamused. Obi-Wan crossed his arms and fixed Anakin with a stern gaze. "Anakin, do you have any idea how important these reports are? The Council relies on timely and accurate information to make strategic decisions."

Anakin scratched the back of his head sheepishly. "Well, Master, you see... I've been a bit busy with the whole 'saving the galaxy' thing. You know how it is."

Obi-Wan sighed, his exasperation deepening. "Saving the galaxy is indeed important, Anakin, but that doesn't mean you can neglect your responsibilities as a General. This paperwork is part of your duty."

He’s heard it so many times before “I know, Obi Wan.”

"As much as I appreciate your combat skills, you can't solve everything with a lightsaber. The Republic also needs proper administration."

“I know, Obi Wan.”

“You understand?”

“Yes Master.” Replied Anakin, head tilted down slightly, feeling reprimanded and surly.

“Good. Then you won’t mind that I’ve taken you off the Bandomeer run.”

“Wha-what?! You can’t do that!”

“Oh yes I can. You need to maintain all aspects of your responsibilities, otherwise there’s no point to any of it.”

Anakin gaped, feeling utterly betrayed. He had no words as he looked at his Master’s resolute face.

“I’ll be back in a few days, by then I hope you will have caught up.” Obi Wan did not enjoy the dismayed look on his Padawan’s face - ok maybe a little. But really Anakin had to learn this lesson. Lives can be saved by having these sorts of communications and records completed. It was of the utmost importance he got on top of things.

He went over to his still seething Padawan and gestured for him to move behind the desk, to get to work.

Anakin hadn’t noticed before but on the table next to his, you were filling out your own paperwork. You had been uncharacteristically quiet during his exchange with his Master, strangely focused, almost interested, in your papers.

He turned back to Obi Wan, “Do I have to start now?”

“Yes Anakin, sit down next to Y/N and maybe she can show you how a proper Jedi attends his duties.” His Master looked almost smug and Anakin noticed Y/N bite her lip to hide a smile.

Anakin felt thoroughly put out as Obi Wan left. Suddenly overwhelmed in the face of his work, and desperately annoyed he wasn’t to be going on his mission. He hated sitting still, he hated writing, he hated the uncomfortable chairs, the smell of old papers and stale caf.

He leaned back in his seat and let out a groan which made you bristle. He noticed. He ran his hand through his hair. And sighed again loudly to see if you’d say something. You didn’t.

He supposed he should get a move on. He stretched out his long arms, not an easy thing in such a cramped space, he noted. He was about to grab the top piece of paper when he realised he didn’t have a pen. So naturally he started to look for one - and he did so in the most annoying way possible. He opened every single draw in his desk unit, finding nothing. He moved all the stacks of paper from one side of the desk to the other, and then reversed the entire thing.

First, he was stuck doing paperwork instead of going on a mission, and now he couldn't even find a pen to start the tedious task.

He looked helplessly around the room and finally to his right where you were sitting. Your hand was out, eyes still glued to your papers, holding a black pen.

“Thanks” He said, putting on his most charming smile. But you don’t reply, your hand just fall deftly back down to your work.

Anakin couldn't help but feel a little put-out by your lack of response. He was used to getting attention and he didn’t want to do his work. And there was something different about you right now. You were really focused, and he found that strangely attractive.

He cleared his throat and leaned over towards you, trying to peek at your work. "What are you working on?"

You looked up at him, surprised by the sudden intrusion. "Just some mission reports," you replied curtly.

“Same.” He said, gesturing to his pile. The look you send him is utterly unimpressed.

He leaned back in his chair and tried to focus on his work. He couldn’t though. He started tapping the end of his new pen on his work. Trying to get his brain to think, to process the information. His leg was bounding up and down. All in all he was an image of energy and impatience and it make your skin crawl with annoyance.

“Can you stop that?”

Anakin looked at you innocently, his blue eyes twinkling with mischief. "Stop what?" he asked, even though he knew exactly what you were referring to.

Your irritation was growing by the second, and you shot him a pointed glare. "The tapping and the bouncing, Anakin. It's distracting."

He chuckled, clearly unfazed by your annoyance. "Oh, come on, Y/N, it’s part of the process. Besides, I thought Jedi were supposed to be masters of concentration. It shouldn’t stop you from completing your work, surely?”

He was goading you, definitely trying to draw you in and cure his boredom.

You rolled your eyes, determined to stay focused on your task. “You better get started Anakin, you don’t want your master to have to extend your break from active service.”

“Hey! Woah! That’s a bit uncalled for, don’t you think?”

“Do you think he wouldn’t?”

Anakin stilled. He really wouldn’t put it past his Master to do that. After several minutes of futile attempts at focusing, he let out a deep sigh. "I can't do this," he muttered under his breath. He couldn't shake the feeling of restlessness, like he was trapped in this small room with no escape.

You looked up at him, raising an eyebrow. "Can't do what?"

"This," he gestured to the pile of paperwork. "I can't focus. I just keep getting distracted."

You let out a small chuckle, but it was void of amusement. "Maybe you should try meditating on it.”

Anakin sighed dramatically, his frustration evident. "Meditating won't help, Y/N. I've tried. I need something... more stimulating."

Your eyes met his, and for a moment, there was a charged silence between you. Anakin's gaze held a hint of mischief, and you couldn't help but feel a tiny bit sorry for him. Despite your annoyance with his antics, he did seem to be suffering somewhat, even if it was his fault.

You tried to maintain your composure, but your heart was racing, and you found it increasingly difficult to focus on your work. "Anakin, we have to finish this paperwork."

Anakin's lips curled into a smirk as he continued to inch closer. "Who says we can't multitask, Y/N?"

Before you could respond, he gently brushed his lips against yours, a soft, lingering kiss that left you breathless. It was a brief moment of stolen passion in the midst of the tedious paperwork, a secret indulgence that neither of you could resist.

When you finally pulled away, your cheeks were flushed, and you couldn't help but smile. "Anakin, we can't do this here."

He grinned, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief. “Why not?”

“Because you haven’t earnt it yet.”

He looks at you appalled. “No, no, no, no. We are not playing that game. Don’t do that!”

“I’m not doing anything!… Until… you do… your work…” You drag out the words and grin at him wickedly.

He collapses into his chair with a overly dramatic sigh, he makes you laugh.

#star wars #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker #anakin x reader #star wars fanfiction #clone wars #star wars prequels #star wars anakin

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agaypanic · 8 months

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reese wilkerson nsfw alphabet 🤭

Reese Wilkerson NSFW Alphabet

Masterlist

Request Something!

A/N: been writing smut for a few months now and i think this is my first time doing the nsfw alphabet lol

C/W: (kind of explicit) talks of sex (duh) you’ve been warned

***

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

At first, he doesn’t really know what to do besides clean up any mess that’s been made. But after a few times, he gets into a routine. If it was a bit rough, he’ll put you in a warm bath to relax your muscles and tell you how good you were. If it was more soft and sensual, he’ll hold you close until you either fall asleep or decided to do something. Either way, he has a quick snack and water bottle for you.

B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Reese’s favorite body part on you is probably your boobs. (yall remember how he was in that cynthia episode, like come on) He likes playing with them as foreplay or during sex. Don’t be surprised if you find a couple hickeys across your chest.

Reese’s favorite body part on himself is definitely his arms. Although he looks skinny, he’s really strong. He likes the way his muscles flex when he’s hovering over you, or holding you up against a wall and pounding into you.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

I feel this way with all the Wilkerson brothers, but I don’t think he’d think about not using a condom until he’s in a very committed relationship. Having lived with so many brothers with such little room, he doesn’t want to risk something he knows he’s not ready for. He’d probably consider the pull-out method at first but would forget it if you told him it doesn’t always work.

But when you’re both okay doing it without protection, he’ll come anywhere you’ll let him. Inside, tits, stomach, face, you name it.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Before you got together and were just friends, he jacked off to you a few times. He felt a bit guilty about it after the fact, but that never stopped him from doing it again.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

I think he may have had sex a few times before meeting you, but he could also definitely be a virgin when you first start dating him. Overall, not very experienced. But despite how he is in school (and pretty much all other aspects of life), I like to think he’s a bit of a fast learner.

F = Favorite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Any position where he can see your face and tits. Reese is definitely a boob guy. If he can’t touch or kiss your chest, he’ll be a bit whiny and manhandle you into a better position.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Depends on the type of sex, but it’s probably an equal balance. Reese wants the both of you to feel good, but if something funny or slightly embarrassing happens, he’ll laugh it off. But if it’s like jealousy or angry sex, he’s 100% serious.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

I think Reese would be well groomed down there, considering how he’s so into his appearance. Neatly trimmed, but not all the way shaved.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

There’s always some level of intimacy with Reese, but it definitely depends on the type of sex. Rough sex, it’s there in the little things like holding your hand above your head or kissing your cheek before nipping at your neck. If it’s soft sex, he can be very romantic, whispering about how good you’re doing for him and how pretty you look.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Did it a decent amount before you got together. Now that you’re dating, he doesn’t feel the need to do it as often. But if you’re away for a while, he might do it once or twice, depending on how long you’re gone.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Definitely has a praise kink. Goes both ways, but mainly receiving. He’s so used to Malcolm getting all the attention and feels like he never measures up to anyone else in the family. So he likes to know how good he’s doing when he’s with you.

Hair pulling. Mainly giving since his hair is kinda short. He usually does it when he wants you to look at him or when you’re having rough sex. But if he’s going down on you, pull. his. hair.

Marking. Goes both ways. He gets cocky knowing that there are love bites and bruises all over your body in places only he can see. And if you give him a hickey, he flaunts that shit with pride.

Dumbification. He’s so used to being the “dumb one” in the room, he gets a bit smug when he’s able to make you an incoherent babbling mess. Knowing he’s the only one who makes you that way (especially if you’re considered smart or a genius like Malcolm) gives his ego a big boost.

L = Location (Favorite places to do the do)

Probably your room. His house is so crowded all the time, he doesn’t wanna risk someone walking in. Sure, he could probably just beat them into secrecy. But if it’s his parents that catch you, he’s fucked.

Sometimes, when he has it (or if you have one), he’ll fuck you in the car after a date when neither of you can stay over.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Honestly, you don’t have to do much. Wearing a low-cut top? He has a boner. Putting on lipgloss? Boner. Listening to him talk, smiling and batting your lashes at him the whole time? Boner.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

No intense impact play. Yeah, he’ll slap your ass sometimes. But it’s always light and playful. And he would never hit you in the face. A major fear of his is that he’ll somehow hurt you because of how much of a brute he is.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Pretty equal, but he prefers receiving slightly more. Just because he doesn’t wanna do a bad job of getting you off. But trust me, he’s very good with his mouth.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Depends on the scenario, but generally, he’s a bit fast while still being sensual. If it’s makeup sex or you haven’t seen each other in a long time, he’ll take more time with you. If it’s jealousy or angry sex, let’s hope you weren’t planning on walking anywhere for the next day or so.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

He’d prefer proper sex, but he’s definitely never opposed to a quickie. Sometimes, he just wants to take you right then and there but doesn’t have the time to fully ravish you.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

He’s down if you’re down. But only if it’s not something too intense.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

He can usually last 2 to 3 rounds. 4 if he’s lucky. He lasts longer than he did when you first started having sex.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

I think he’d have one vibrator, and that’s it. But he’d probably make you keep it at your place since his brothers and parents kinda snoop. He only uses it on you, mainly when he feels like being a tease. If you’ve really pissed him off somehow, he’s edging you for at least an hour with it.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Biggest fucking tease ever!! Sometimes, he does that little weird-ass giggle of his when you writhe around and whine too much, before talking to you in a condescending tone about how needy you are. But don’t tease him too much because then you’ll be in for a long night.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

I don’t think he’s particularly loud, unless he’s feeling really subby. But overall, it’s a lot of low grunts and groans, sometimes while his face is buried in your neck or tits.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Kind of likes being tied up. You wanted to try it out once and tied his hands to your headboard before riding him. He’ll only let you do it if he doesn’t feel like being too much in control, though.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

5 and a half inches, not too girthy, but definitely knows how to use it.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

He’s a teenage boy with a hot girlfriend, it’s really fucking high. If he wasn’t worried about consequences (although he never really is), you’d probably have sex 3 or more times a day, regardless of location. He gets that shit from Hal.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

Depends on the type of sex, but usually, he’ll fall asleep a little bit after aftercare. But he always makes sure that you fall asleep first.

***

Malcolm in the Middle Taglist: @rattilol

Reese Wilkerson Taglist: @hollymaybank @theogirlovermattheogirl

#agaypanic #reese wilkerson #reese wilkerson x reader #reese wilkerson x reader smut #reese wilkerson headcanons #malcolm in the middle #malcolm in the middle x reader

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lavend-ler · 2 months

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BORDERLANDS: DEBT OR ALIVE BOOK REVIEW

I have read the new Borderlands book Debt Or Alive. I did not like it. In fact, I hated it so much I needed to pour out my thoughts in this review. It’ll be very long, so bear this in mind while reading through it because it’s been a while since a piece of media has made me this angry.

There will be spoilers to ALL of the book so you’ve been warned. I am going to analyze this book very thoroughly so everything that can be spoiled will be spoiled.

TL;DR – I hated this book. I accept Borderlands 3, I think it’s fine and I really like aspects of it. I wasn’t enthusiastic about New Tales From The Borderlands but in the end, I thought it was fine. But Debt Or Alive? It’s probably the only piece of Borderlands media that I won’t consider canon from this point forward. Half-assed story with shallow characters and ham-fisted message which retroactively ruins the events of the game(s). Don’t buy it, don’t waste your time on this just to see the worst version of characters you love.

A more detailed review will be under the cut. It’s over 10k long.

1. Tales From The Borderlands made even worse

I have a complicated relationship with Tales From The Borderlands. I think my best friend had put it in the best way – Tales From The Borderlands is good when you don’t think about it for too long. For me, it’s a fun game to play once every 4 years, remember the story and move on. The more you think about it, the more apparent the cracks get and the worse it becomes.

Debt Or Alive REALLY makes you think about Tales From The Borderlands in the worst way possible.

I have always thought that Fiona’s part of the story is weaker than Rhys’. It’s told in a way that sort of meanders until it’s reached its conclusion. The first sin Debt Or Alive commits is that the ending of Tales is its beginning. What should be the conclusion, the nice ribbon to tie the story is now the jumping off point. In my opinion, it’s always a terrible narrative decision to make your sequel start where the story left off. It always implies the fact that your conclusion is meaningless and that your characters didn’t learn anything. To write a new story, you need more challenges which also means that characters need new struggles. In Debt Or Alive’s case, it means that everything that happened in Tales isn’t worth a thing.

To me, nothing was more apparent of it here than the Vault scene. The Vault of the Traveler grants a wish to everyone who steps there. The Vault should be the conclusion to what we know of the characters and sort of “off screen” this happens to Rhys. We see Fiona hear that Rhys wishes for Atlas and that’s the end of his story in Tales. Though I will touch upon why I didn’t like this later, it does make narrative sense, he was supposed to be more independent and choose his own path instead of following others. It’s a ribbon that ties to his character in Borderlands 3 and New Tales From The Borderlands.

Then it’s time for Fiona and… Oh, yeah. What would SHE wish for? Throughout Tales, we see Fiona evolve as a character from the ragged con-artist who wishes to just go by, to the independent and certain Vault Hunter. Or do we? Yes, there is a moment in which Sasha dies which would be traumatic for Fiona but she’s from Pandora. She should know the dangers of living and instead, she should be happy that she came back as the hero. In the ending of Tales, we can hear Fiona say “This [Vault hunting] life…suits me” so she already reconciled the danger and in fact, she welcomes it. But to make this half-assed story be a thing, we have to disregard this entirely.

So in the Vault, Fiona is given a chance to wish for anything she wants. What does she wish for? Nothing, actually. Presented with an opportunity of a lifetime, Fiona has no idea what to wish for. I can’t even begin to tell you how bad of either an opener or an ending this is for her character. For an opener, we have a protagonist who doesn’t know what she wants and where she needs to go. Sure, it’s a start for an arc but not for Fiona who already DID have it. It’s an arc she had earned, so why would she have a restart and go through this all over again? And as an ending, it’s a terrible reminder that Fiona probably didn’t learn a thing. The time in the Vault was for nothing, Athena didn’t teach her anything. Burch doesn’t know his character well enough to think of anything for her to wish for.

Hence the whole journey moving forward truly is just a bad rehash. If Fiona didn’t learn a thing about herself and needs to do it again but worse, what’s the point of this story? To see her come to the same conclusion as she did at the end of Tales but worse? The answer is yes. As this story suggests Fiona is a protagonist who doesn’t know what to do with her life and just wants to protect her sister and that’s all. Which is the exact same point her character was at, at the beginning of Tales.

Actually, why did the Vault have to grant wishes, anyway? It doesn’t make sense for neither Fiona nor Rhys and even later, Gaige cements that this didn’t have to be the case. Part of the charm which Tales From The Borderlands brought was the story of everyday people. This wasn’t a story of glorious Vault Hunters with great stamina and luck, who chose the adventure for the guns and glory. This was a story of a middle manager and a con artist, two unremarkable people who were basically forced onto this adventure from outside forces and because of their will became heroes of their own stories. It’s a story of normal people who have made their own self-made destiny.

Debt Or Alive, of course, scoffs at this idea. Rhys’ Vault wish for Atlas makes no sense as he already has Atlas and already probably works under this trademark. It doesn’t mean a thing that he wishes for the whole legal action thing, when his character progression to have Atlas from Jack would be so good. But no, it’s cosmic power that grants him that wish fully. Fiona too, she was supposed to be a self-made Vault Hunter but in the end (or the beginning), she rejects this and doesn’t know what to wish for. Just an absolutely horrible way of planning out her character. No one wants a passive character and this is what this story makes Fiona to be – a bystander, rather than an igniter.

I also want to point out that the events of Tales and characters she meets are truly nothing but cameos. A big part of Fiona’s story was gaining independence when her father figure Felix turned out to be a snake who sold them out. Within Tales, it’s very clear that Felix was abusive towards Fiona and Sasha, forcing them into roles they didn’t want, favoring Fiona and making them live such a strict life, they thought it was the best they could get. Of course, none of this is ever touched upon in Debt Or Alive. It’s never mentioned that Fiona is an abuse survivor and how it would shape her as a person with her protectiveness and willingness to give up greatness for simply “good enough”, and being held to impossible standards. There are also barely any mentions of Athena and their time together. At no point does Fiona use tactics she had learnt from Athena or recounts their time. Those are passive mentions which make Fiona look like she didn’t learn a thing.

My own ribbon that ties this section will be the funniest thing that for me exposes how much Tales is made worse. Tales From The Borderlands is a game in which choices DO NOT matter. There are no consequences and each choice will yield the same outcome. Again, it’s just meaningless and it’s so funny to me that this book wants to wink at the audience becoming a “choose your own adventure” book in two sections, which both lead to the same result. It truly does not mean a thing.

2. Anthony Burch cannot write women and Fiona’s character assassination

Anthony Burch cannot write women. This is a fact that I wanna point out every single time I can because it was never more apparent to me than in this book. Let’s start with women in Borderlands and the stories which he had written for them. Maya has a good theme but falls flat when she’s only an object for Kreig to lust over. Nisha is Burch’s sexual fantasies coming true in a gross way. Athena in Tales is made only stone cold, no-fun character who is a liar to someone who loves. Janey in Tales is made to be an overbearing girlfriend trope but it’s progressive because she’s a lesbian. Vallory is a collection of tropes. So on and so forth.

Hence right from the beginning, I was very skeptical of a book by Burch which will have the most female-driven cast in all of Borderlands. My skepticism was proved not only to be right but also that it was much worse than I had realized. Because I haven’t even shown you the issues of Fiona and Sasha and trust me, there are some even in Tales. However from Tales I could very easily tell you what character traits Fiona and Sasha have and what differentiated them.

Fiona, as described in Tales promotional material is a con-artist with a heart of gold. She has been raised on streets, she loves money and she has a silver tongue to get out of every situation she’s in. Fiona also cares about those she loves a lot, as an older sister she can get overbearing but her situation in life made her realize that it’s justifiable. She can also be a nerd, she’s curious and fun, likes to joke around. Sasha is a character who loves danger far more than Fiona. She likes guns and has great knowledge of them, she’s more a doer than a talker. Sasha doesn’t want the con life and longs for something tangible, rather than just be a prize in the books. She also has an inferiority complex, due to Felix’ abuse which she masks with her forwardness and action personality. She shines through when she can do things she loves, becoming headstrong, honest and independent.

Do you really think we’ll get any of this in this book?

The answer is no and it’s very easy to tell it right from the start. I know I keep getting back to the Vault scene but trust me, this is the culprit from which I knew this book will be a failure. In this scene, Fiona doesn’t know what to wish for, so she “wishes” that Sasha was there. This wish is granted and it’s now both sisters in the Vault. From this you can see the issue – this book does not treat Fiona and Sasha as separate characters. They ALWAYS have to be together, always mention each other, they’re basically never given a room to breathe because whenever a scene calls for just Fiona or just Sasha, their internal monologue will keep mentioning the other.

I can’t even really make a case for either of the characters individually because this book itself makes such a bad case with them. I’ll give it my best shot because when these moments occur they are, well, bad. I’ll start with Sasha because I have less to say since the book itself had less to say about her too. There is a certain moment in which Sasha, being tired of Fiona’s carefulness, goes Vault hunting with Gaige. I was very happy at this, since I have shipped Sasha and Gaige before and I thought their personalities would mesh well. Yet, in this particular instance, Sasha isn’t enjoying anything regarding Vault hunting and the danger, while constantly thinking of Fiona. Why is that, why wouldn’t she be thrilled for the adventure and getting to know another person like Gaige more? They could bond and start a friendship but in the end, they barely talk and Sasha isn’t into it. Even guns don’t excite her that much. What happened to her?

I think even her reflections towards life after death are very much shallow and omitted. We get a sense of it, we get that Sasha is terrified that there’s nothing when she dies but we’re not given anything of it. I figured this would be her turning point, that Sasha will realize that if there’s nothing afterwards, it’s best to live her life to the fullest, going on adventures, not wasting chances. But nothing like this has happened. Sasha doesn’t enjoy Vault hunting, she shrugs at guns, she can’t have her own fulfillments, her relationship with Rhys is wishy-washy. You’d think that with sudden realization of death, Sasha would have a breaking point and start thinking if it’s all worth it and how her life should now be like. But that would require interesting philosophical questions that Burch doesn’t want to answer. Not when they lose the life-giving crystal, nor when Sasha dies a second time when she chooses to. It’d be such an interesting discussion of the meaning of life, how Sasha approaches life and what it all means to her but no. Not given any thought to this. At the end it’s not even unique to her as Fiona dies and is brought to life too so again, no point.

Another faucet to her character is the on and off relationship with Rhys and just… I was never a fan of shipping Sasha and Rhys together and this book reminded me of it in the worst possible way. Sasha is disinterested with Rhys’ world and they never mesh well together, having such different goals in life. She doesn’t even want to acknowledge their relationship, leaving Rhys to look like a sad wet sock (more on that later). It’s described how she’s used to acting a certain way and that’s fair, that’s a huge roadblock in a relationship. But we never see this roadblock get pushed. Sasha at the end of the book is still terrified of the potential relationship and doesn’t want this. We only learn that one time she calls him her boyfriend off screen, which is just such a cop out I can’t begin to describe it. I’m so sorry, Sasha, you deserve an actual relationship not just Burch’s fantasies.

So I move to the main character of the story, Fiona. And oh god, how badly has Burch treated Fiona, words cannot describe it but they will try. From the beginning, we see one of Fiona’s traits be amped up to 11 – her protectiveness which turns into overbearingness. Constantly, we are reminded that Sasha died and Fiona can’t forgive herself. Which is fair but again… We saw her happy and fulfilled at the end of Tales. But since Tales doesn’t matter and probably it’s better if it didn’t exist, it gets shrugged off. May I remind you, this book starts right as Tales ended. Which is a year later from the start. Which means Fiona is 30 and Sasha is 25. Their actions do not portray two characters of this age, especially Fiona’s towards Sasha’s.

Look, I’m 24 and I have a sister who’s 33, so close-ish range to them. If my sister would do the things that Fiona did to Sasha I would be pissed off as all hell because guess what, my adult sister does consider me an adult woman. Unlike apparently Fiona and Sasha. Because for Sasha’s “safety” Fiona puts her into a fucking jail on a planet they do not know, just towards her “safety”. Yes, it’s regarded as dumb and wrong in the book and that Fiona knows that Sasha would pull through but it’s just mind boggling to me that Fiona would even do that. She should know her sister. But then throughout the book we see Fiona acting like know all be all authority to her, constantly second guessing her actions and opinions and being completely overbearing. I’m sorry but her apology at the end doesn’t make it remotely okay to be so controlling of Sasha.

I guess that’s the point. In my opinion, this book is a character assassination for Fiona. People will whine and moan over how Rhys got ruined in Borderlands 3 and New Tales but no, I had and will always disagree with this. But Fiona in Debt Or Alive? Burch truly showed how he has no clue how to write female characters because she is completely ruined here. None of her actions make sense, neither do her choices, the little character she has is so unlikeable and I just can’t believe he thought it was all good.

The best way to show you how Fiona got ruined is to have a little overview of Fiona as a character before and her background. She is a Pandoran, born and “raised” there, through the life of crime and bribery. Her biological parents died, she only has Sasha with her. Thus she feels responsible for her and their wellbeing. Fiona also had Felix, a man who brought her and Sasha with him and raised them in a very abusive manner. Fiona all her life had lived in poverty, struggling to get by with her cons, constantly having Felix make her think she’s responsible for the failures or successes of the group all on her own. She lived in a caravan, she barely had any money to her name. She’s no stranger to the climate and cruelty of Pandora, having lived there all her life, though she herself prefers the “word” combat.

Got it? Well, now forget it because that’s what Burch did in his book.

I know that wealth can change people, I really do and the sum of money Fiona and Sasha received is enormous. What I don’t understand is that they both did a complete 180 on their perspectives. I do realize that living in poverty all their life, Fiona would start spending money on dumb things but to hammer home this fact, Burch tries really hard to show us how dumb some of the purchases are. But would she really act like this in this setting? First, it’s hard for me to believe that she would willingly move to Eden-5, seeing the corrupted system and life in which it operates. It’s just Pandora but with chrome paint on it. Yet, Fiona doesn’t see red flags and just continues on living, buying dumb shit. We don’t learn anything new about her through this either, it’s just a dumb thing after dumb thing. Why couldn’t it start with things that she really wanted and then move on to unnecessary things? I think it’s because Burch couldn’t even establish what her wishes would be from Pandoran times.

What also made me just want to throw this book away was that it took Fiona around 200 pages to realize that people who work for her are also bound by debt. It’s such a nearsighted thing, I cannot believe that she would do it. Especially since I think we’re led to believe that this book happened in the span of 4-5 years. For Fiona to be this bound by greed and wealth doesn’t fit her character at all. How could she just not see that people who work for her have been tortured by poverty? Up until this point, Fiona lived in poverty herself, she should KNOW that this is a thing people struggle with. Not to mention, in the book there are talks about how people have multiple debt cuffs on them. It’s unacceptable that Fiona wouldn’t care about those who were beneath her. And if she really did, do you think this makes her character any more likable? And do you think that her turn around is a moment of triumph when we’re led to believe she ignored those people for YEARS?

I think the story itself just makes you shrivel at one moment in particular. Fiona purchases a sapphire kitten, which shatters. Classic Borderlands humor, right? This moment truly disturbed me but not in a way that Burch wanted but for the implications. Fiona spends money on bullshit she doesn’t want just to have it. Who else spent money on unneeded bullshit just to show wealth? Handsome Jack. And when you’re comparing your hero to the most vile villain from the series, I don’t think it’s a good sign. Especially since in canon Handsome Jack loved and cared for Butt Stallion. Unlike Fiona.

Even the breaking point moment of Fiona, the destruction of Rustville, felt shallow. Reading this, I couldn’t help but to go back to the moment of Helios’ destruction in Tales. It was such an incredible moment for Rhys, seeing the destruction of a place that was close to him, death of people who he knew and respected. And seeing this “reprise” of sorts with Fiona just felt shallow. At this point, Fiona was in Rustville around 3 times if I can recall? She met people but didn’t form any meaningful relationships (because Burch doesn’t want either of the sisters to have meaningful relationships besides each other) or got to know anyone better. These were all one off interactions with random people. Unlike Rhys, it wasn’t Fiona’s choice to destroy Rustville. It was only an act that she maybe sort of allowed to happen but it was an action of one rich woman. Fiona had no agency in her actions, there was nothing she could’ve done to neither prevent it nor cause it. Thirdly, Fiona is a Pandoran. She should know the carnage, death and destruction, as it is ingrained in Pandora’s system and society. For her to act so devastated and shocked, it simply doesn’t make sense.

Another thing is that this story really dumbs Fiona down, to the points that I couldn’t comprehend how dumb she was. She goes alone to Tetanus Wilds, even if with Sasha she’d have more chances. Especially since she was going to Gaige’s stash and let’s be real – Sasha knows guns, Fiona does not. Fiona goes to destroy Rustville without any weapons and without any protection which of course results in her basically getting killed. Fiona takes a leap of faith thinking she’d die in the ditch but forgets that Deathtrap can fly and catch her. How would she forget if she was tinkering with him before? The same way she’d forget her weapons it seems.

I also wanted to mention how it always made sense to me that Fiona and Sasha would have a falling out in some part of the story, so both of the sisters would become independent and chase their own destinies. It would require Burch to stop thinking of them as a singular character, which does not happen. This part in particular made me especially angry. A skilled writer would make Fiona’s overbearingness and constant promises to be a start of Sasha realizing she needs to live her own life, Fiona as well. Anthony Burch is not a skilled writer so nothing of such happens.

Within Debt Or Alive we don’t learn anything new regarding neither Fiona nor Sasha. We are spoon fed information that we already know, seeing characters we love either devolve to their pre-Tales state or make terrible, nonsensical decisions. There are no moments in which either of the sisters can breathe on their own. They are thrown into situations where something just has to happen. Thus, we don’t learn anything about them as people.

I also want to point out that the writing of Gaige is fine. I’ll talk more about this later but she truly was fine and I didn’t see issues with how her character was carried. Granted, I think it’s very hard to screw up writing Gaige but it’s Burch, he can do it all. I’m still sad that she’s a lonely outcast like in Borderlands 3 but in general, I didn’t have issues with either her writing or the story.

3. There will never be another Handsome Jack and the death of a good villain

Some of you have already started to roll your eyes at the mention of Handsome Jack but trust me, I have a point here to make. Whenever you hear people talk about Handsome Jack a special kind of sentence emerges – a villain you love to hate. I think this sentence is a great guide to creating your villain so that they’re impactful, fit the story, be likable enough to want to be with them but you’re happy when you get to kill them. And nothing made me feel like it’s a craft long gone than reading Debt Or Alive.

Countess Holloway is a nothing villain. She truly doesn’t represent anything and I can’t tell you anything of what she is as a person. Actually, it can boil down to one sentence – she’s rich and she’s evil. That’s all there is to her character but I guess it goes to show that even then, Burch cannot write women.

Going a little deeper, we gotta discuss the parts that make a good villain. I’m sorry for the comparisons to Handsome Jack but we really need to talk about what makes him great and what makes Holloway shallow.

On the surface level, the points are there. A villain needs to be connected to your heroes in a specific way, having an impact on their lives. Holloway does meet that quota, as she’s not only the motor for this story but also is actually the reason why Fiona and Sasha got rich in the first place. She is a vain person, who loves to live for shallow things and doesn’t care about the rest. From this point of view, we could think that Holloway serves as a reminder to Fiona and Sasha of “be careful who you can become” but neither of them have this revelation. Throughout the story, Fiona and Sasha basically do turn into Holloway, yet nothing of it is neither stated nor explored. It’s not a revelation that characters have, it’s what we think when we connect the dots.

When we start to think more, it all begins to fall apart. The key thing that lacks here is motivation. Looking back at Handsome Jack, it was clear how his goals were stated – he was a nobody who became somebody by his charisma and cunning ways. Now he projects his awful world views on others and it’s your job to stop him. There’s also the fact that his daughter Angel works for him and killing her for Jack is the breaking point. You see him be cruel, vain and abusive but you see his more “human” side that does not excuse his actions (I am looking away from Tales) but makes you understand how much of a terrible person he is and how he deserves to die. It’s effective and fantastic storytelling and his personality makes you want to be around him, even if he’s an awful person who deserves to die.

Let’s go back to Holloway and examine her as I described the traits of a good villain via Jack. Holloway’s motivation is that 7 years ago Gaige murdered her daughter Marcie and now she wants revenge on her. This is already a problem, as this is a passive goal. Holloway is presented as an arrogant woman who doesn’t like to get her hands dirty, hence she can’t kill Gaige on her own. Understandable but also she doesn’t seem very interested in it anyway? She wants to kill Gaige but passively. There’s a bounty on Gaige but Holloway doesn’t have a squad to look after her. Wouldn’t it be more interesting if Holloway had people looking for Gaige and when they die she swiftly replaces them with another one? It would be active but instead we’re presented this information as “well, maybe Gaige dies or maybe she doesn’t, idk, it’s alright either way”.

Another point is that Holloway is a very shallow character. In general, yes but in her actions too. What do we really know about her? She is rich, vain, vengeful, powerful and likes to spend money on frivolous things. Sure but that’s so basic you could tell this about so many other villains it wouldn’t make a difference. There is nothing in her nor in her behavior that would be an indicator of any interesting persona or character. Holloway just exists and we’re told that she’s evil. Wonderful character writing, gotta say.

We’re introduced to Countess Holloway in a way that she is the potential buyer of the Typhon DeLeon Vaultlander figure. Why would she want this? We’re not told nor shown. Thinking of it logically, we could say that it’s supposed to show us that Holloway likes to spend money on whatever bullshit she wants, which is fair. But wouldn’t it make it more sense if after the death of her child, Holloway became obsessed with Vault Hunters, knowing the murderer of her child became one? How did she start researching stories of Vault Hunters and think about how much she hates them, which would lead to her gaining knowledge? This way, Holloway could’ve been prepared for the attacks of Vault Hunters and Vault Hunter wannabes, since she would predict it all. Or even set a lure with a promise of amazing loot. Nothing like this happens.

Even the death of Marcie isn’t exactly a driving point to Holloway. When Angel dies in Borderlands 2, you see the impact it has on Handsome Jack. You know he’s an abusive parent yet even within this, he still acts as sort of father of the year type and constantly manipulates you, saying this is your fault. For Holloway, it seemed that the death of her child just happened and yeah, she’s pissed but you know, things happen. She doesn’t mention who Marcie was, even in her shallow understanding of it. It could’ve made a very interesting character bit where she would tell lies about Marcie, as she was more of a commodity to and of Holloway than anything else. Instead, Marcie’s death isn’t really a drive for Holloway, it’s just a thing that happened and she’s kinda bummed about this.

Is Holloway an imposing force, a ticking clock of sorts? No, she is not. We’re told that during all their stay on Eden-5 (again, around 4 or 5 years), Fiona and Sasha are neighbors with Holloway and nothing is done with it. They’re not anxious that she could strike at any moment or that she could catch Gaige. They don’t care about Gaige actually. That’s why Holloway makes a very poor villain in the imposing sense. There’s no impact of hers and her power felt throughout the book, when Fiona and Sasha can happily live next to her and nothing happens.

The only interesting display of her power is during the gala at Fiona and Sasha’s place, where Holloway shows that she can very easily change the whole Elite’s perspectives regarding the sisters. Yes, it’s a good moment for Holloway but it also truly makes me think how shallow she is as a character. First, the fact that Fiona fell for the Claptrap Vaultlander is another testament of how dumbed down she was. Burch, you made a whole joke about how Claptrap sucks at the beginning and how Fiona hates him, the least you could do was to think that she’d immediately throw this away (especially since you’ve established that Fiona is frivolous with her possessions now).

Second, it’s such a bait and switch moment for Holloway and the whole Elite. I get what it was trying to accomplish, it was for us to see that the Elites are stupid and will follow anyone as it goes. But wouldn’t it be better that out of her hatred for Fiona and Sasha she would work behind the scenes, telling other Elites how they are just stupid Pandorans who can’t achieve anything? It could’ve been a carefully plotted plan with instances that the blackmail was happening hinted at throughout the story but that would require the time when Fiona and Sasha spent on Eden-5 to mean something (it does not) and Holloway to have an ounce of personality and planning skills (she does not).

Another thing that Holloway for me lacks is the backstory. To create a good villain you must make us believe that they had a reason to do all that so we can hate them even more. I think in general, Borderlands does a great job with this, with Knoxx, Handsome Jack, of course, Colonel Zarpedon and the twins. But Holloway? We do not know anything about Holloway’s life. It was probably done so the billionaire character is just a shallow representation of this world but it makes for a very boring and one note character. We don’t know how she got this money, if she lived all her life like this and hates outsiders who she thinks are unworthy of this. Or is it a thing she got later in life thus is so cutthroat about this because she doesn’t wanna go back to poverty. No, you just get a one note shallow villain with no motivation and nothing to play off of.

Even her death is such a nothing death too. Throughout the book we see everyone trying to get at her and eliminate her and not succeed. It’s why Gaige is here, it’s a whole moral dilemma for Fiona and Sasha to grasp upon. As much as Holloway is baiting them to do this but calling them cowards and the sisters just lamenting over how they should’ve done this, you’d think Holloway would get her way. Possibly being quite literally torn to shreds by the sisters, Gaige and the poor people of Eden-5. I mean, it’s Borderlands, deaths like these could happen! But no, she just falls to her death. Even Gaige didn’t deserve to get a shot at her, it seems.

4. The themes of why all billionaires deserve to die or lack therefore of

In a now deleted tweet, Anthony Burch describes Debt Or Alive as a book about how “all billionaires deserve to die”. Why he had deleted this, I have no idea and I’m not here to speculate. However, I did not forget this tweet and throughout reading Debt Or Alive I kept reminding myself of itt. It should be the credo of this book, right? Or at least it once was. That is why, I wanted to simply sit down and speculate, what does this tweet actually mean for the themes of this book.

(This screen isn’t mine, I didn’t get to screenshot it when it was up)

I am a leftist, my politics are very much so on the left. My expertise lies in environmental issues and I know less about socio-economics but it’s fine because it seems that Anthony Burch himself doesn’t know much about this. Hence while reading Debt Or Alive, I asked myself the same question over and over. Let’s say I’m a person who likes Borderlands, likes Fiona and Sasha, isn’t too involved in politics and now I read Debt Or Alive – will this book convince me to learn more of the theory or think that all billionaires should die? In a way yes but in none of the right meaning of such speculations.

On the planet of Eden-5, it seems that life is determined by money and social status. Even the smallest crimes (or rather inconveniences towards the wealthy) will result in you getting a debt cuff. The imagery is already very ham-fisted but let’s go forward with this idea. What are the debt cuffs? I can’t really tell you how they work. While reading I couldn’t have deduced how exactly they operate with that premise.

First thing is that a person can have multiple debt cuffs but it is never specified if the cuffs ever reach their limit in amount of money on it. As we see Fiona and Sasha get their cuffs and then we learnt you can get multiple, it truly got me thinking – how is that possible? How is it possible to get another, if the screens are digital (and they are described to be digital) how can they reach the limit and be forced to get another? In a highly technological society like Borderlands, nonetheless? How are the body parts chosen for this process? Fiona gets one on her ankle (I think, either this or arm, I forgot) but Sasha gets one on her neck. There are people who have so many cuffs they can’t walk anymore. How can they have so many?

Truth be told, we won’t learn anything about the cuffs or how people operate with them. We simply know they are very common and every citizen of Rustville is described to wear one. Even children, in an incredibly not subtle way, are described to wear “debt cuffs 4 kidz!”. We’re told the cuffs are very heavy but people live with them. We won’t learn who manufactures them, who is in charge of the law to give them away. We’re not even told about the ones who have paid their debt without help from Fiona and Sasha.

The moment when the book takes us to debt prison and the guard says there are some prisoners who can’t even walk because of their cuffs, I realized what these truly were. The cuffs were nothing but the least subtle visualization for us for the statuses of Eden-5 citizens. A literal ball and chain to be exact. For me it just serves as a very ham-fisted metaphor for what could’ve been an interesting concept. We could’ve seen someone pay up their debt but the cuff stays on because the Elites don’t want anyone to be free. We could’ve seen Elites wearing some as a “fashion statement”, mocking the suffering of the lower class. We could’ve seen an Elite who has an actual debt cuff and can’t pay it away, resulting in them hiding it from others. We could’ve had anything but the complete disregard Fiona and Sasha had for their workers and not realizing all of them wear at least one.

For all it’s worth, the book has a very black and white approach towards wealth and money, one that is very unusual for Borderlands. Though we get the usual for Borderlands “everyone is an asshole”, we have such a divide between Rusters and the Elites, it’s hard to mistake it for anything else. Because of this, world building suffers with this incredibly. There are only the poorest people around or the richest people around. There is no nuance or a conversation, there is either this or that. Even Gaige doesn’t offer any insider information towards it, even if she was born and raised there. Nowhere does her very outspoken politics mention the structures and Elites of Eden-5 which she should be completely against. And the fact that she knew Marcie and that she doesn’t wear any debt cuffs that are omnipresent on Eden-5 and the fact that Elites don’t want anything to do with Rusters makes me wonder – is Gaige actually rich? Because everything shows this, and if so, great work, Burch on creating a character whose identity is all over the place.

That was my big issue with showing the problems of wealth and social structures it creates. With no middle class, the conversation lacks another point of view. There are either the wealthiest around or the completely poorest lowest class imaginable. With getting rid of the middle, Burch fails to show us how daily life operates and robs us of the potential conversation. Where are the people who chase wealth and fortune? Where are those who would betray their whole class just to have that taste of top dog life? The only thing we are offered in this conversation are Face and Pick (you don’t have to know anything about them), who want to give Fiona and Sasha away for Holloway, just for the money. But that’s treated as a plot twist, rather than an actual plot point and the siblings already paralleled Fiona and Sasha, so there’s no conversation, just a very shallow shock.

Another point is how the Elites are presented to us. The Elites are the villains, of course and just like billionaires in real life, they aren’t good people. It’s more of how they are presented to us or lack of such presentation. Debt Or Alive doesn’t show us insides to the minds of the Elites because frankly, they don’t have any. I do understand that Burch wanted to show that these are stupid, cruel people, I get it, but even in real life, billionaires are stupid but not necessarily unintelligent.

In the book, we don’t see much of Elites, actually. We see them on the gala Fiona constructed and on Holloway’s gala at the end. At first, they are mindless people who cannot think for themselves. They’re either doing what Fiona wants or what Holloway wants. Secondly, they are quite literally used as meat shields for our heroes to hide behind. So in all senses, they have no personalities, either as a group or individuals. I think the biggest crime is that even in their rich years, Fiona and Sasha don’t interact with the Elites. We could see them be cruel to the lower class citizens, purposefully making them do things that would rank up their debt. We could see them spending money on idiotic things which Fiona and Sasha would point out as dumb. We could even have descriptions of Holloway’s house that are garish and grotesque because she has so much money, she doesn’t know how to spend it anymore.

Truly, the only billionaires whose mind we can read are actually Fiona and Sasha. But for this kind of story, you need a strawman, which is absent. I genuinely thought that Gaige could become their strawman but their relationship is so shallow and so one note I quickly realized it’s impossible. In stories like this, usually when the protagonists become rich and get to make stupid, meaningless purchases, there are already signs that something like this is bad. And though there are plenty of moments in which the girls make stupid choices over their greed, it takes them so damn long to wake up from that dream.

There’s also no critique of overconsumption or consumerism in general. It should be an easy task, regarding how Fiona and Sasha spend their money but though we never see the effects on them, for example throwing away new things or we don’t see the workers (besides that one lady) in such conditions. It’s all a very interesting subject that is brushed away at rich ladies’ boredom. Though we are told that these purchases are stupid, we aren’t given an answer to what they should do instead. And the only point of activism Fiona and Sasha do is to finally free the workers from cuffs. Took them long enough.

I simply can’t understand why this plot even had to involve the sisters, since it truly makes them worse by association. All throughout Tales we hear that Fiona and Sasha hate Hyperion and don’t want anything to do with Rhys. It’s a fair assessment, they’re Pandoran and Hyperion destroyed Pandora as they knew it and is personification of greed. So… Why were they so eager to live a rich and boring life? Was their issue only with Hyperion? Even more so, why were they so hateful regarding Hyperions? For all we know, Rhys is just a simple white collar worker who also gets screwed over by the system, yet they hate him for being part of the system even when it’s to also get by. Reading this story, I had a feeling that Fiona and Sasha simply hated Rhys for being a white collar worker and they had no problems with greed and destruction of lives via riches.

The story also really doesn’t want to take sides in this whole debacle. Fiona and Sasha lose all their money and want to start a revolution, killing all the Elites. This thought isn’t given any time to sink in or develop. At some point, the sisters realize no, we shouldn’t kill the Elites because that is how we’re gonna liberate the people, with their money. But then Gaige tells them they’re wrong? It’s very all over the place and the story really doesn’t want to take sides in this.

That does make me think, what kind of impact will this story even have on both Fiona and Sasha? All in all, it seemed that they didn’t learn anything. They have to be on the run because the Elites want them dead but also they’re still into the riches and spoils of the Vault. Since Rhys is rich now, wouldn’t they not want to associate with him? Or are we gonna play the “not all rich people” card? I love Rhys and I actually like fictional rich people. But while writing a story like this, you have to stick with your principals and make them call out Rhys’ practices, not side with him because he’s one of the good guys. You can’t lead a revolution and then make puppy eyes towards a rich capitalist.

I have left out the discussion of race, because I am white and I feel like this isn’t my place to be talking about this. Don’t listen to me regarding this, listen to people of color. I want to, however, point out that Burch stayed within the racial ambiguity of Fiona and Sasha and their racial identity is not spoken of, while we learn the ethnic identities of two white characters (Gaige and Felix). Not to mention that I can criticize that having two women of color be painted as rich assholes and drawing parallels between Fiona and Handsome Jack who is in canon called a fascist is incredibly insensitive. And within the revolution literally having them be called out on being “outsiders who want to lead revolution that isn’t theirs and they talk over the native people” is so bad I can’t believe Burch thought of this.

All in all, would this book convince me that all billionaires should die? With its heavy-handed metaphors and subtlety equal to a trainwreck, I truly don’t think it would. It’s a mess of themes and missed chances on having actually said something regarding the fact that billionaires should not exist and that they are vapid people who can’t look out for others. The story is just complicated when those people you criticize are also your protagonists, like Fiona and Sasha here.

We could’ve had interesting stories of class struggle and differences. The Elites could’ve been destroying the land, long before that laser hit Rustville. Destruction of land and resources for people to live is one of the oppression strategies real life rich people do. And just like the environmental issues won’t be solved with only everyday people making a change, it doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try to make things better. Write better stories with better themes. Maybe it’s just a tie-in novel for a game from 10 years ago but it could’ve said something instead of giving us a caricature of a rich person who spends money on little whale serving dishes.

See how I mentioned my passion for environmental issues at the beginning and it came back here? Set up and pay off. Something this book lacks.

5. Writing not just a better story but A Story in general

I am a writer. Sure, I write fanfiction but that doesn’t disqualify what I’m about to say. Not everyone is a showrunner, you need screenwriters too. What is this book if not officially commissioned fanfiction regarding Fiona and Sasha? When I myself am writing a story to explore, I always ask myself what is my theme, what am I building towards. Every story is fundamentally about change, right? That was why, when I stopped asking myself if I think all billionaires should die, I started asking myself – what did I gain from reading this story? What did the characters gain from this story being told? The answer is actually nothing.

Some of you probably had thought “this is just a tie-in novel to the games, it’s not supposed to be high art” and I agree with this but it is supposed to be art, no matter what. You could’ve said the same thing about the original Tales From The Borderlands, it’s nothing but an addendum to the main stories within the Borderlands. Yet, it moved a lot of people, inspired them, wanted them to create and follow the stories of these characters. For years, I’ve seen people longing for a story of Fiona and Sasha post Tales and this is what we get. Maybe in this regard Debt Or Alive is a high art, since it’s been making me nothing but angry these past couple of days. Or maybe it truly is a nothing piece of art, since at the end of the day, the feelings are just of shallowness.

Coming back to the fact that every story needs change to be worthwhile, I mean it even in the smallest of sense. It doesn’t have to be a huge change, but there has to be one no matter what. After I read Debt Or Alive I realized there was completely no change involved in the process. We start this book with Fiona and Sasha not knowing where they are in life and at the end, they decide to be Vault Hunters. You can say it is a substantial change but think about it like this – it’s the same kind of character arc they’ve had in the original Tales From The Borderlands.

Nothing had changed, they’re still at the same point they were almost 10 years ago when we finished episode 5. What Burch does is a classic shitty storytelling technique of the sequel that is just forgetting everything that had happened before and rehashing the character arc from the first one, just worse. Fiona goes from a self-reassured con-artist to a confident Vault Hunter. Sasha goes from a closed off younger sister to someone with agency. Those are the same kinds of stories we’ve already been told but when there’s no one to bounce off of, you realize that the sisters didn’t need this journey to realize it, they just needed to think for 15 minutes.

There’s also no change to the dynamics between Fiona and Sasha, and every attempt at it is shallow and pointless. At the beginning, we see Fiona being anxious that Sasha literally died before her eyes. Fiona is basically patronizing, Sasha goes Vault hunting but dislikes this, goes back and they make up. There’s no sense of change between them or maturity. I’ve already discussed the sense that their “class consciousness” is meaningless when they at the beginning were lower class. But even between each other, it’s the same song and dance. Fiona is a little overprotective, Sasha wants to show that she’s not just the younger sister. I’ve seen this already, Burch, you’ve told me this in Tales.

It doesn’t help that Fiona and Sasha really are treated constantly as the same entity, so their “changes” just don’t appear. They’re bound by the hip, unable to grow because of their limitations of the relationship. It’s too bad that a story about siblings has to treat them like they can’t exist without each other, when it could be an interesting story about independence. What if Sasha decides that Vault hunting is for her and actually goes away with Gaige? What if Fiona realizes that she’s been too caught up in her sister’s life that she forgot how to live her own? Those are all interesting questions that get tossed off the window, when you realize you have to do Tales but worse.

Just like that, the sisters can’t form any meaningful relationship. Not with the cardboard cutouts of the supporting cast, not with Gaige, there really is nothing. Fiona and Sasha don’t interact with their environment in an interesting way, it’s just a ham-fisted need to show that rich people are bad. Yes, I know they’re bad, I just want to see them discover it on their own. But we get nothing.

You can also argue that Sasha’s story regarding Rhys is just a rehash. As I’ve said, I was never a fan of this couple but I can’t imagine being satisfied with a solution that Burch brings to the table. Through the story, we see Sasha denying her feelings, not being ready for a relationship until Fiona steps in and says “actually, you are or you’re not” and off-screen we see that Sasha decided on their relationship. It’s truly insulting to see the “will they, won’t they” scenario with adult people and solved not before us.

What you have to understand is that this period of life that we’re seeing, with Fiona and Sasha is not a brief period of time. Maybe Burch doesn’t want exact numbers but this is clear when you think about a certain fact – Rhys has a mustache. I’m bringing this up because in Borderlands 3, Lor is actually surprised to see him like this, which means that the Maliwan invasion is well on its way. Which Rhys doesn’t bring up, of course. But deducing from this single comment we can calculate that between the beginning of the book and the ending, 4 or 5 years had happened. That is a damn long time and the fact that during this Fiona and Sasha do not resolve anything, do not develop and only go forth with their very surface level resolution is just a slap in the face.

We finished when we had started – it’s just that Burch doesn’t want you to realize that we had started at the ending. And this itself has consequences that he doesn’t ever want to acknowledge.

6. Show me my silver lining

I think at this point it’s very clear to see that I very much so didn’t enjoy this book. It’s just that I can’t bring myself to give a fully negative review, when there is one thing that I have to actually compliment. That thing is the arc of Gaige and what she’s been through in this book.

How we see Gaige is an actual arc and change of the character. We start with her being petty and bitter, returning to her home planet of Eden-5 for revenge. She wants to kill Holloway for destroying her and especially for the fact that she had imprisoned her father. We see Gaige’s smarts play the role against Fiona and we actually see the unbeatable Vault Hunter lose. Her father died at the prison. She has to hide, plotting her revenge. At the opportunity to bring her father back with the life crystal, she takes it immediately. But when it fails, Gaige is avoidant and quiet. Not wanting to see that she had failed yet again.

What was a terrible point in Fiona’s characterization, the destruction of Rustville, is the moment where Gaige shines through. Being presented with a choice by Holloway, she actually altruistically chooses to get caught, so she won’t hurt anyone. Sure, Holloway doesn’t keep her promise but it’s what Gaige is doing what is important. Instead of her usual snarky demeanor, we see her give up, something she had never done on her own. And in prison we see her still fighting for her life, screaming at the top of her lungs, even if at that point both her father and Deathtrap are gone.

The one genuinely great moment was when at the gala, Gaige gets a chance to open up about her feelings to her ECHOtube (I think that was what it was called?) subscribers. She talks about her love for her dad and how much he meant to her. How she misses him but wants to avenge him and wants him to be proud of her. It’s a very powerful moment, in my opinion, the best in all of the book. Gaige, surrounding herself with cheap thrills and adventures, seeks something that is real and opens up. It’s a beautiful moment of humanity for her that is just lovely to see.

Why she decided to take up the job of a party planner, I have no idea. Even with her explanation it still didn’t mean much to me. Thinking of how sad and once more, avoidant and lonely she ends up in Borderlands 3 does make me feel regret but I wanna hold onto that moment. Of Gaige’s sass and positive spirit, the only thing that made me go through that book.

Also there was a moment in which Rhys admits that he had a voice surgery. Made me go “what the fuck” at first but then I kinda laughed. Nobody needed that but whatever. Also fuck Troy Baker, all my homies hate Troy Baker.

7. Lightning round of criticism

Having said all of that and more about this book, this little section is about criticisms I had but didn’t want to dedicate a whole section to them. It’s just a list of things that bothered me as hell there but that will be shorter to sum up:

- The humor of this book was unbearable. After several of those “jokes” you could very easily predict how the next one would go. It’s one person making a statement, another person contradicting it and then the outcome is a contradiction or first person admitting to the contradiction. Imagine this dry explanation but repeated over and over again and you get at least 40% of the whole dialogue. I don’t think it’s a good thing when you can sum up your entire humor in a descriptions like this

- The new side characters are so paper thin, I cannot tell you anything about them. I can guarantee that if you ask me who they are in a month or two, I simply won’t know. All of them were characterized by a gimmick and not given anything real to do. The sisters, too, don’t have interesting interactions with them. Side characters here exist for cheap scenes that sorta progress the bad plot. In the words of a streamer Oboeshoesgames “Katagawa Jr. What a crazy character. He’s almost as memorable as Chet Smith.”

- The way this book handled Rhys is horrendous. Equated to the kicked puppy who desperately wants Sasha’s attention, constantly described as stupid and worthless and then acting like a teenager when he’s pushing 30. I don’t think Borderlands 3 ruined Rhys. I don’t think New Tales ruined Rhys. But this? This is the worst written Rhys I’ve seen in years

- Speaking of, Burch trying his damn hardest to write as if he’s a gen z person throws out words that make him look like Steve Buscemi “how do you do fellow kids” moment. In one moment, he even calls Rhys a himbo. Burch, do you know what words even mean

- The narration style suffers from “tell don’t show”. Look at this example, here. Not only is this just flat out bad writing, we don’t need to be told three different times how badly Holloway treats people. A good writer would just show it to us via her actions towards her staff and juxtapose it with how Fiona treats her staff but of course, none of this happens

- Being a video game writer, Burch doesn’t know how to progress a story. For him, the more important things are side quests and instant gratifications, not real emotional bits. The story rushes to the next point and leaves no room for you to breathe. You can’t spend time with those characters, you can’t learn anything new because you have to do another thing

- Maybe that’s just me but I hate the non descriptive narration style. The world of Eden-5 feels shallow and pointless because the sisters don’t explore it and we don’t get any descriptions of it. Those are just empty phrases of wealth and dirt and nothing else

- Last but certainly not least, I gotta ask, what the hell was Burch thinking with making this healing watch be the same thing as the healing crystal from New Tales? I always hated the deus ex machina of the watch but here it just had gotten ridiculous. It makes no sense, it’s a contrived way to bring it together. How does it connect? We never know, it is never explored. Maybe in Borderlands 50 or something

8. Conclusion

I hated this book. I wish I could’ve said something more profound but sometimes being direct is better – I truly hated this book and I won’t consider this canon to the Borderlands storyline. You can take my word that the canon won’t acknowledge it either. It’s a shallow cash grab directed at people who love Fiona and Sasha, engineered to be as meaningless as it could be and not to say anything either about its themes or its characters. It’s not a character study. It’s not a jumping off point for meaningful class structures and struggles discussion. It’s not even a fun popcorn adventure for fans of the series. With huge letters stating that it was written by the writer of Borderlands 2, I think we gotta ask – maybe it’s time to stop relying on the past and have someone write a spectacular story on par and better than Borderlands 2? Just anyone but Anthony Burch.

#borderlands #borderlands debt or alive #debt or alive #fiona the con artist #sasha the kid sister #gaige the mechromancer #bl spoilers #debt or alive spoilers #fiona dillon #sasha dillon #gaige dimartino #book review #ed.txt #ed's edits #ed.png

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irisbleufic · 4 months

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Of all the bullshit I never expected to be back on with the same intensity of October through December of 2000, Beetlejuice was not it. But I finally got to see the musical yesterday, and the part of me that has adored all 94 episodes of the animated series from the moment I started watching them on ABC Saturday mornings in 1989 just fucking flared—this fond, awful tightness in my chest. It’s the first TV show I ever imprinted on; it’s been with me since childhood. Surreal.

About 4 years into watching the cartoon, I finally saw the live-action movie that the cartoon was based on. I hated it, because it was so malevolent and empty compared to the incredible world-building characters in the animated series. Serious shout-outs to Stephen Ouimette and Alyson Court for all that stunning, hilarious, and often moving voicework.

Now, okay, I need to go back to 2000 again to make this all make sense. I’d watched the show from 1989 until whenever the 4th season ended. It wasn’t until I was in my first semester of college, newly transplanted to New England, that I found a couple folks within my program who had loved the show growing up, too. I ordered all of the episodes on VHS. It was difficult to track them all down in 2000, and it was expensive. But I pulled it off, and we had Friday night watch parties for weeks over the month of October. But that is not where this ends.

I was in the process of winding down the writing I’d been doing on Tim Burton’s Sleepy Hollow for the entirety of my senior year of high school. Suddenly, I’m in college and watching this fucking cartoon and thinking, there is so much heart in this. How the fuck is there so much heart. I haven’t seen two characters this wholesome codependent in, well, ever. I went looking for forums and mailing lists devoted to the cartoon. I found a mailing list. There were a handful of artists drawing amazing fancomics on there, and they were like, what do you do? Oh. I write. And they were like: do you understand how desperately some of us have wanted fic, but just can’t find it?

That is the wrong thing to say to me when I’m on a downward spiral of realizing I’m not going to escape a fandom without getting myself into a project so long that it’s all I’ll be doing for fucking months on end. If you’re one of the people who knew me back then, you know what I did for those four months in the fall/winter of 2000. I wrote a novel. Sure, I came close to failing a couple of classes, but it was the first time I understood exactly what I was capable of building as a fanwriter. Maybe even as a real writer.

“Time Will Tell” was hosted on a friend’s Angelfire site for a handful of years. People found it via LiveJournal, too, because I linked it there. I put it on AO3 somewhere circa 2012 and took it down again in 2017 because I didn’t feel there was enough interest in it, and also, my 19-year-old editorial foibles and typos were aspects I wanted to amend in it.

The musical took more inspiration from the cartoon than the film. I’m stunned and grateful for that. I found the “Time Will Tell” file buried pretty deep in my Gmail folders. I’ve been reading it since the drive home last night. I just can’t believe there’s now enough of a fandom for me to consider finally polishing it and getting it back online. It’s one of my two oldest surviving pieces of writing.

Anyway, sorry for the Gotham fic delays that I’d been trying to get a handle on. Now that the semester’s over, I feel that getting this thing I wrote twenty-three years ago back to the light of day is the best use of my time for a couple weeks.

If you’re one of the people who read “Time Will Tell” back in the day, thank you. I don’t know how many people out there still remember it beyond maybe ten or so friends I’m still in contact with all these years later. I’m sorry it disappeared for a while.

#beetlejuice #beetlejuice the musical #beetlejuice the animated series #lydia deetz can fuck right off for reminding me she was the reason i wrote first-person pov for the first time ever #and can take all the credit for making me feel less alone as a kid #maybe this is why ghosts never scare me; bj is such a delightful dumbass and set my expectations pretty high/low depending

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frozenjokes · 3 months

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what is everyone’s love language/how they best express their affection…..iirc you’ve talked abt this in a fic or a post (scar is touch, cub is qualitt time, i forget grian) but i want to hear it Again!!! this has nothing to do w any fic planning btw :3 i am a normal guy w normal thoughts and behaviors all the time

(side note — if we genderbent/hit all of them with the lesbian ray, would you be chill w that? don’t wanna write stuff abt them and then you just feel weird abt it 🫶)

life would be so much better if they were all girls because then grian could call other women cunts and I wouldn’t have to erase it (enthusiastic yes)

Scar is huge on touch, yes he is the ultimate guy Big Toucher. A lonely Scar will be down on his luck in a fight, say ‘hey what if we chose love instead’ and get his nose broken. If you’re a fan approaching him you are going to Get Hugged. If you’re anyone he remotely knows you’re going to Get Crushed. I imagine the strongest of his hugs are reserved for cubfan135 and skizzleman. I don’t even know if Skizz has been mentioned by name in these fics but he’s there. To me. He does love to bother Grian but he is a little more wary because of the one time when Grian first met Micah (alter ego) Grian told him he has bad hands and Scar has been thinking about the /derogatory/ ever since. Scar does actually have differently textured skin but it’s mostly subtle and probably only something someone who knows him well and/or someone in the middle of a deep extremely autistic mental health crisis would notice. Oops! Grian has no idea btw. He doesn’t even remember saying that. It’s safe to say actually he doesn’t remember most of that night. Quality time is also big for him. He just likes being around people. He probably also enjoys giving gifts, but more in the way of just Paying for stuff. Buying lunch. Stuff like that. It’s mostly a thoughtless gesture because he is aware of One Thing and that is that he has A Lot More Money Than Most People, but something he enjoys. Also making stuff. He likes to make things and he does NOT make them for himself he makes stuff to be Validated. On that grind for ATTENTION. this applies to coworkers as much as it applies to friends and lovers.

Cub is absolutely quality time, you pinned that well. He loves a good *sit in the presence of my friends in complete silence.* parallel play? you’ll kill him with that. I don’t think he or Grian are fantastic at cooking or anything, but Cub enjoys being talked at while he’s making dinner while Grian’s sitting at the kitchen table or vice versa. Just thought about them all doing a puzzle together and how much of a disaster that would be. Cub isn’t nearly as bad of a control freak as Grian is but he would start foaming at the mouth when witnessing Scar attempting to shove two pieces that obviously didn’t go together into one. I think Cub and Grian would get competitive about puzzles. NOT a relaxing activity when they’re doing one together. You know how with cats they each have the Same Food in different bowls but they just HAVE TO KNOW what the other is eating because it MUST BE BETTER. them with different parts of a puzzle. but both of them have resource aggression. They’re having fun. Get them two different puzzles and they’ll play nice. The puzzles can’t be the same piece count thought because then they’ll start racing to finish them first. Both of them know this very well.

Cub isn’t a psych major but I feel like he also expresses that Weirdo Autistic Psych Major Affection with the piecing people out and puzzling out all the different aspects of their personality into boxes and lists. He is studying you. This fuck isn’t just ’spacing out in your direction’ he is looking directly at you and wondering what your fucking problem is. The only exception to this is Grian, only because he’s known Grian for so long that doing this is literally just exhausting. He’s given up. ‘hi, my boyfriend saw you from across the bar and was wondering what the fuck is wrong with you’

Grian I think also has a quality time thing going on but it falls under more of a line of Shenanigans. Guy that LOVES to make a scene. The CuteGuy and HotGuy dynamic appeals to him so much because it’s just drama and fun. Guy that loves to be sneaky with his friends. do. do crime. Start a funny cult with his good friend mumbo jumbo and party alllll night but EVIL. He should really make ocs and start rping with mumbo. Scar would be shit at rp despite spending all of his life playing different character versions of himself he would be so bad. Cub. I don’t know. It doesn’t Quite seem like something he’d be super interested in, but he would listen to Grian talk about his ocs. Shenanigans can also mean arts and crafts. He loves a good arts and crafts. It’s one of the only ways to stop him from being so competitive. Indulge him in his interests and he will kiss you on the mouth. Type of 30 yr old at the sleep over pajama party to suggest prank calling random numbers. Or truth or dare. This cunt would be ALL OVER truth or dare oh my god. He makes me sick. Fun fact, if you want a fun rp idea, putting your whole cast together and making them play truth or dare is Really great. It gets old, but it’s a fantastic once in a while thing.

it’s been an hour help

#hermitcraft #hermitcraft fic #cubscarian hotguy au #grian #gtws #goodtimeswithscar #cubfan135 #with a side of mumbo jumbo #hermitshipping #cubscarian #convexian #asks

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50cal-fullauto-astarion · 1 year

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My thing with writing König is trying to find the sweet spot balance point of like 3-4 different angles that are integral to the characterization I want to put out there.

I want him absolutely riddled with the kind of dangerous loser vibes that start the first day of kindergarten as almost an leprotic aura of Contaminated: Do Not Touch that everyone he comes into contact with wordlessly picks up on and carries for his entire life.

Just borderline violent othering that he struggles to fight, embrace, and figure out without ever getting a clear answer or mitigation method. He gets older and becomes a problem, a human toxic waste dump, and the avoidance is tinged with alarm. He figured out how to cover it, though, like he’s pulling on a patchwork person suit.

I’m a real boy, I’m like everyone else, nevermind the seams. Yeah, they’ll split the longer you’re around, but maybe this time—this time—I will have become an endeared thing and I will be understood instead of left.

Skin-splitting horniness, which is ha-ha on the surface, but Jesus Christ, it’s starvation, straight-up. Man is a fucking alien, he doesn’t get people, his veneer of normality is quick to shatter, and he just wants-wants-wants to be wanted. To be needed is a pipe dream. He’s like a dog taken away from mom and litter mates too soon—the need for closeness is set at so high a threshold it’ll never be met, never be fixed.

Fucking is a quick fix for this desperation. Bandaid over a bullet hole, finger in a cracked dam. Gets sharper teeth and longer claws the lower the fuel gauge is, and he’s been running on fumes for years. He’ll eat any scraps given to him at any table. Any even mildly kind word, any mote of attention, approval, or acceptance.

Even in his worst mind, he knows he’s not owed, he is not dying because he is not getting fucked or loved or befriended, but god fucking dammit, what he wouldn’t give for company to cut the bleakness, to not be fucking flinched at or eye-rolled. He wants to eat someone piecemeal as they eat him piecemeal, and the brutal symbolism of cannibalism is the best way he can understand the depth of this fragile-skinned desire.

A level of jaundiced, yellow-eyed sweatiness that pervades every aspect of his life. This is more difficult to describe. It’s literal sweat—from flop or exertion, it doesn’t matter—it’s also a state of being. It’s having not a flicker of volume control—indoor yelling or outdoor muttering. It’s being exhausted and anxious to the point of hysterical cry-laughing at hallucinations after 3-4 days sleepless. It’s saying the wrong fucking thing at the wrong fucking time and chasing yet another person off and wanting to kill himself for it.

It’s surviving on 4 hours of sleep and cigarettes and any kind of caffeine and below-board military amphetamines he can get his hands on for the last ten years because he feels like he’s wasting time. It’s getting smacked because his monstrosity of a body fucking hurts and being borderline greened-out makes it easier to go grocery shopping or to the gym or outside. It’s showering and then cutting his hair over the sink and not giving a fuck what it looks like as long as it’s not getting caught in his collars.

He doesn’t blink, he doesn’t sleep, he’s constantly spilling hyena-pitched stupid nervous laughter, and he bites when he’s overdone, and his teeth aren’t dull. He’s never threatened violence that he can’t overpay out on. He pulls on his face and his scars and that might as well be the same thing, gets sick to his stomach that they’re still numb and he can’t push into the pain he remembers from them. Sometimes he just moans and groans, shoves a hand up under his mask to cover his mouth like he’s going to hold back the tide of bile. He does this shit in front of people, and wants to die when he figures it out.

He likes killing people, he likes feeling powerful, he likes being seen when he’s the executioner, he likes being a scary nightmare. He doesn’t even know if he’d rather fight than fuck, but at least he’s good at it, and there’s undeniable imagery in driving a knife in between ribs over and over and over. He’s never not throbbing hard at exfil, and he’s never not sick to death with himself and his fantasies after he beats off the second he gets privacy.

Anyway I love him, he’s a sad sack.

#könig #konig cod #konig call of duty #call of duty #cod mwii #konig mw2 #call of duty mwii #könig cod #konig #Good enough #you won’t catch him with NONE of his shit diagnosed

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esoteric-joke · 19 days

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Interview with BoosBabycakes

(#Interview2)

Welcome to the next interview of The Dear Writer Project. This time I had the pleasure to interview the wonderful Morgane/BoosBabycakes.

Morgane about planning out her works, working with deadlines and more:

What does your writing process usually look like?

Well, usually it’s always kind of the same process for me, whether I found a prompt on fest’s list or if I have an idea of my own popping in my head.

When I’m drawn towards a prompt, I then have to write down ideas for the story as they come to my mind. Like I will write them randomly in my notes and then, when it’s time for me to start writing, I have to lay out a plan. I can’t go in blind, that’s not how I work. I need to lay my plan, the number of chapters, what will happen in each chapter (not very detailed, but ideas for example).

I also can’t write two stories at once, so I have to fully focus on one before I can start a new one. I usually write when I have the time obviously, when I’m not working and so it can take more or less time for me to write one chapter.

When I’m done with a chapter, I reread it and then I send it to my betas. I have two that read the chapters when they’re done. They mostly help me with the grammar and syntax. I have one or two other betas (depending on their availability) who also read the chapters right away, but their mission is to help me with the story itself, if there are plot holes, inconstancies and such.

Then when the story is done, I have proof-readers that read the entire story and correct things that might have been left out.

After that stage, when they’re both done, I reread the entire story myself one more time and then put them out.

How much time do you invest in writing?

I definitely can’t write everyday and I can’t really sit down and write knowing I’ll only have an hour. I need to know I have time.

I like to write scenes entirely if I can, and not cut them in the middle. But sometimes I don’t have a choice. So it’s mostly on the weekends when I have a full day I can dedicate to writing.

On which of your stories did you write the longest?

I don’t really remember but I think You’ve Got A Higher Power, You’re Once In Any Lifetime did. It usually takes me a few months to write a longer fic, and when it’s for a fest and you have a deadline there is a bit more pressure so you have to kind of push yourself to write sometimes.

You’ve Got A Higher Power, You’re Once In Any Lifetime is also Morgane’s longest fic to date.

Does the aspect of having a deadline make it easier for you to write?

I don’t think it does.

Sure it gives a goal and it can help with the motivation, but sometimes it can also be stressful because you know you have to put out a fic in a certain amount of time, and that adds pressure.

It’s nice to also have no strings attached and be free to write and go at your own pace when you’re not writing for a fest.

Do you have an idea which of your works came together the fastest?

I honestly don’t know.

I want to say Invisible String, because I wrote it outside of a fest and the story just came to me so fast in my head.

What work of yours was the hardest to write?

I have to say They Say That Time’s A Healer for obvious reasons.

I don’t think any of my other works were hard to write, but this one is very personal and some chapters were very difficult to write and not cry at the same time.

If you’ve an idea in your head, how do you decide if it’s going to be a oneshot or a longer story?

I mean some prompts speak for themselves and I know if it’s going to be long but for others, I’m convinced it’ll be a one shot… and I end up with over 40k… Just like the one I’ve written for the blff.

I’m really awful at planning the number of words, because I always end up writing more than what I originally thought I would. As I write I often get inspired and add things or I write a scene and it is way longer than what I had in mind but I go with it.

What inspires you most while working on a story?

Sometimes it’s music. For some fics, they are inspired by a song. One that I heard in my car and had the idea popping into my head. That’s the case for Love In Slow Motion and my next fic which will be for the angst fest next year.

Apart from that, I get inspired by movies/tv shows or just my own head.

Morgane also often gets inspired by things she sees in real life and sometimes even searches for places while she travels that she could potentially write about.

For Clear Blue Water she chose an actual painting that exists in the Los Angeles County Museum of Art. It’s called La Trahison des Images (The Treachery of Images) also known as This is not a pipe.

The rooftop cinema is also a real place in West Hollywood, California and it’s called the Melrose Rooftop Theatre.

Also, the Cité de l’Espace (City of Space) in Satellite is a real museum in Toulouse, France.

Did you ever experience writers block?

I’ve never experienced it really.

I’ve had moments where it has been harder to get in front of the computer because in my personal life it was kind of hard as well at that moment, but it was never a moment where I couldn’t write at all. I’ve never had that.

Are there things you find frustrating, annoying or just really difficult to write?

Oh for me it’s the smut part. For reasons that I will keep to myself, I find it very difficult to write smut in a way that I always think it’s not good enough. I feel very insecure about those scenes.

Also the scene where there are a lot of characters at the same time, like OT5 scenes for example, are fun to read but man they are hard to write.

Finding the pace, the banter, it’s very hard.

Is there anything you can tell me about any future projects of yours?

Oh well, I have a fic coming soon for the blff, and I registered for the angst fest for next January.

I also have a couple of ideas for potential sequels… I won’t say more about this hehehe.

I also have two ideas that I don’t know if they’ll ever see the light of day, because I easily get caught up in fests.

In the next part of the interview, Morgane answered my questions that were more specifically about her works.

Morgane about processing grief through writing, experimenting with different tropes and weirdly named ice cream flavours:

What work of yours is your personal favourite?

I love all of them and I have a few personal favorites I’m not gonna lie.

Though if I had to choose one, I think I’d say Invisible String. This one was such a “love at first sight with the prompt” kind of thing. For the little story, I had registered to the blff in 2021 and saw the prompt that will later become Invisible String, but at that time, I wasn’t ready to get into such a story and I also fell for another prompt. So the next year, I registered again, and the Invisible String prompt was still there… But I fell in love with the prompt for Satellite and took that one.

However I couldn’t get the other prompt out of my head, it was stuck in there. So I waited for the registration to be over and asked the fest if I could write the story outside of the fest.

They accepted and while I was writing Satellite, the entire story for Invisible String came to me. I threw it down in my notes. Ideas, moments, plot lines, and when I was done with Satellite, I threw myself into it. It was just so much fun and complicated to plot and plan at the same time. I don’t know I just have a soft spot for this story.

What fic of yours would you recommend to someone who isn’t familiar with any of your works at all and why?

Oh god that’s tough as well, um…

I wouldn’t recommend an A/B/O because not everyone likes that dynamic, but if they did I would recommend either Invisible String or War of Hearts. Invisible String for the story in itself and War Of Hearts because it deals with an important theme in my opinion.

A/B/O aside, I think I’d recommend Satellite. It’s a very fluffy one and I think it represents my writing quite well.

But I really think this question should be asked to the readers really, I think they’d know better which one to recommend than I do.

Is there a work of yours that was planned to go completely different than it came out in the end?

No, I don’t think so.

How did you come up with the idea for Clear Blue Water, Came And Brought You In and the unusual characteristics for their species?

This was a prompt for the rom com fic fest. It was specified that Louis should be a vampire and Harry a mermaid and that they had to hide their identity to the other.

After that, it’s kind of hard to explain because usually it just comes to me.

I had the prompt and the ideas came and I knew I had to have them in a place where there is water of course and where it doesn’t rain that much, but then I had to come up with ways for Louis to be in the sun, and so it just follows after that.

I inspired myself with characteristics from the vampires in Twilight, The Vampire Diaries and my own mind.

As for Harry, I searched on the internet the characteristics of mermaids and I kind of made up my own traits for him and his species in this story. I thought: Well, it’s my story and it’s a fantasy so I can do whatever I want with the characters.

I didn’t want Louis to be the bloodthirsty vampire stereotype, I wanted him to be different and so I was a bit scared of the reaction of the readers because I usually see people asking for lust and vampire Louis biting Harry and all that and for me it wasn’t even an option in this fic.

Then I came up with this kind of legend about the two species and the rest is history.

Morgane also told me in a conversation outside of the interview that she wanted to show that Louis didn’t have a choice and that he had to struggle a lot with his new identity after he was turned. She didn’t want it to look like being turned into a vampire was a blessing in this story.

Clear Blue Water, Came And Brought You In is your only fantasy-themed fic (if we let the a/b/o ones aside). Is anything fantasy-themed like that planned for the future or if it’s not planned, would you just like to write another one?

No other fantasy fic is planned for now, but I’m not opposed to writing another one if a prompt in a fest or an idea appeals to me.

They Say Time’s A Healer, How Long Is This Burn Supposed To Last? is based around your own horse’s story. Why did you decide to but your pain and your experiences with grieving a pet in a story?

I think at the time I hadn’t really dealt with what had happened and it felt like it would be therapeutic in a way for me to put it down in writing. It was a way to externalize those feelings.

Not a lot of people feel the same or understand what it means to lose a pet so I also wanted to show the relationship between a horse and their rider, so people could understand a bit better, maybe.

[🚨big spoiler alert for people that haven’t read the story🚨]

How much of that story (besides Kartoon being sick and passing away) actually happened?

Harry’s fall and injury happened to me exactly like it did in the story. Except that for me it was only about two years after I got Kartoon. I also couldn’t ride for three weeks after that.

The moment where in a flashback, Harry takes care of Kartoon’s abscess happened as well. He really had one and it was hell to treat.

The time where he got stuck in his stall happened as well. He had scratches on his hips and all, my poor baby.

Also, the part where Harry learns about Kartoon’s condition after the party and everything that happened after that to the final moment of Kartoon, happened exactly that way to me.

I described it exactly as I remembered. The call, the chase on the road, the moment he came down and out of the truck, inside the warehouse and being by his side, saying goodbye and finally the waiting room and the final decision. I didn’t have a partner, but my Dad was with me, so that part is different obviously.

The box in which Harry keeps the plaques and the hair of the tail is real as well, I have the box on my nightstand. I never really open it but it’s there.

When Harry cries in Chapter 9 after getting the bill for the operation was a real moment as well.

The river spot is a real location and of course Kartoon did some competitions, but never at a national level like in the story, so I changed that too for the purpose of the plot.

The aftermath and when Harry tries to ride another horse, it was what happened to me as well, the name of the horse was the same and I couldn’t go through with it. The end of the story, regarding Harry’s feelings and his journey through grief and towards riding again is what I’m feeling.

Morgane never felt ready again to ride another horse and so, even if people told her that they would’ve loved it if Harry took that step of riding another horse in the end of the story, she decided to not do that. She wanted the story to represent her feelings and her grieving even if her readers would’ve preferred it differently.

The story does have a bittersweet ending.

After the interview, Morgane told me that Ice Tea and Dusty the cats are also very much real and sent me a few very cute pictures of them.

How did you come up with all the ice cream names in Summer Sun, Something’s Begun?

I searched for weird ice cream flavors first, then I searched for puns around the flavors.

As you know I’m French and English isn’t my first language so finding puns can be a bit tricky.

Morgane’s favourite ice cream flavour is a classic creamy strawberry. Bonus points if it has chunks of strawberry in it.

In Invisible String Louis writes his own book at the end to tell their story. He mentions it’s going to be a trilogy. Is that supposed to be a little spoiler for two more parts that are maybe coming in the future?

I’m going to disappoint a lot of people but no it’s not…

But never say never I want to say…

In my mind, Louis was writing his journey without Harry in the first book, the second book was Harry’s story without him and the third one, my fic, is their journey to coming back to each other.

So yeah maybe one day I’ll be brave enough and will do it, if people are interested to read that…

Morgane told me that if she’s ever going to write another part, it wouldn’t be about the villain of Invisible String coming back.

You don’t stay in one trope or genre but rather experiment quite freely with them. Why is that?

I just like to challenge myself and experiment.

I want to write different things, different tropes, so there is a bit of everything for anyone who wants to give my stories a try.

I also think, it’s more interesting to change things up and not stay in one particular trope, but that’s completely personal as some other writers might feel more comfortable with sticking to something they mastered.

What was your favourite trope you wrote to this day?

I don’t know…

I love a/b/o for sure but otherwise I don’t think I have a favorite one.

Is anything completely new planned genre or trope wise?

I’d say that the angst fic I’m planning is something different because it will deal with heavy bullying and homophobia.

Also I’ve always wanted to write a fic where Harry is a ballet dancer and this one will be it.

Satellite is your most popular work. Why do you think it got so popular?

I have absolutely no idea.

I was genuinely, and still am, surprised by the love and enthusiasm this fic generated. I honestly didn’t think it would have this success.

It’s a moderate success compared to other writers and popular fics of course, but for me it was pretty big when the story hit 1000 kudos. It was my first and my only fic with that amount of kudos.

Maybe it is the link between Louis and his son, or the growth of Harry and also the growth of his relationship with Adam that appealed to people. I don’t know.

Is there a work of yours that you’d like to get more attention than it has right now?

My new fic is just getting out there so I will give it some time.

But otherwise, obviously They Say That Time’s A Healer is one that I’d like people to discover but I have to say that I’d really like for Clear Blue Water to be a bit more noticed.

Is there a work of yours that you would have rather not published in hindsight or have you already deleted one of your works because you didn’t like it anymore?

I’ve never deleted any of my fics and I don’t think there are any that I regret.

I mean of course I’m a bit embarrassed or rather insecure of my first ones because I was a baby writer back then and I’d like to think that I’ve improved since then, but I’d never delete them because they are part of my journey.

Now we’re at the part of the interview where I asked Morgane a few personal questions about her becoming a part of the fandom and her preferences when it comes to fics she likes to read.

Since when are you in the fandom and what made you become a fan?

Okay this is a long story…

So obviously I knew about 1D when I was younger but I never really listened to them because I thought I was too old… I know it’s ridiculous but yeah.

One day I was on YouTube looking at videos and I stumbled upon a video that was about Harry and Louis and Larry Stylinson. I got really intrigued with it all, these two boys and the band itself and I started to listen to 1D a bit, and I realized I kind of liked their music.

After that, I got very curious about Harry and Louis and typed Larry Stylinson on YouTube and that was the start of the downfall, you could say.

I found Freddieismyqueen and well, I never came up the rabbit hole after that.

I also got curious about their solo music and tried Harry’s, then Louis’, then Niall’s and here I am.

I officially came into the fandom in 2018, so rather late compared to some OG fans.

Did you ever got a weird/funny comment under one of your works or other social media about your works and if yes, what did it say?

I don’t think I’ve ever got a really funny one but the majority of the comments I get are so sweet and loving really.

I got a harsh one one day, which wasn’t really a comment but a note someone put on their bookmarks… But I can see them…

It was about They Say That Time’s A Healer and let’s just say that it made me cry and definitely not in a cool way…

Did you ever get a good/sweet comment that stood out and that you still have in mind sometimes?

The comments that say that I’ve somehow helped them or made them feel better just for a little while always stick with you.

Harry or Louis?

I often get the question, even with my friends. They usually ask me, but I genuinely can’t choose between them.

I know some people will say that there must be one you love more than the other, but I really don’t. I love them both so much, for who they are, and I can’t imagine choosing one over the other. I’ve loved Harry first, but then I discovered Louis and they just have a place in my heart.

Your favourite Harry era and your favourite Louis era?

My favorite Harry era is long hair Harry and for Louis the Made In The A.M. era I would say.

Morgane also told me that if she could, she would absolutely write all of her fics with LHH.

Your favourite movie with H?

My Policeman of course.

Who’s your favourite writer in the fandom?

I would say seducedbycurls because my favorite fic is from them.

Morgane’s favourite fic is Cold Little Heart.

Is there a fic that is not necessarily your favourite or from your favourite writer but is still kind of stuck in your head?

Take Me To Church by wickedarcher_08

What makes you want to stop reading something?

Oh I don’t read sad endings in fics, in books (like outside of the fandom) I don’t really mind but for Harry and Louis I can’t.

I also can’t read a fic where Harry and Louis cheat on each other or are abusive towards each other, it’s a no for me.

Your favourite Song and your favourite artist at the moment?

I’m a swiftie (sorry everyone) and the last few months I Can Do It With A Broken Heart is kind of the soundtrack to my life and in general I’ve been listening to Taylor a lot and Louis’ live album.

You do mention the series Friends and the movie Love Actually a lot throughout your fics. Are those your favourite movie and series?

Yes! Sorry about that, haha.

Friends is my comfort tv show and it’s the same for Love Actually. I watch it every year at Christmas and I rewatch Friends every year, too.

The most unusual thing that inspired you?

Huh… I don’t know if this can be considered as unusual, but I often get inspired by real life things. If I experience something or I’m just doing something random and then, bam! Something pops up and I’m like “wait a second, this could work”.

For example not long ago I was on a plane back from Louis’ festival and right there in the plane I had an idea for the fic I was writing. Nothing happened particularly, just the context inspired me.

Morgane also told me that she often gets inspired by little videos she sees on TikTok or Twitter/X.

I’ll Reach Out My Hand To You, I’ll Have Faith In All You Do, the second part of her Ballet Recital Series was inspired by video she saw on Twitter/X where a dad went onstage to help their child with their performance.

Her little canon series It’s A Larry Life was inspired by a few TikToks that her best friend sent her.

Who would you most like to read an interview from?

Oh, maybe stylinsoncity. They said they were leaving the fandom but still, their fics are simply iconic.

I also asked Morgane to give every fic of hers a colour and a season. Here is the outcome of that:

Welcome to Scotland: I picture it blue and in Winter

You Are My Dancing Queen: It’s black and white for me obviously and Winter as well

I’ll Reach Out a Hand For You (the entire series): I picture it powder pink and Winter

With My Body And Soul I Want You More Than You’ll Ever Know: I picture it Yellow and Spring

Summer Sun Something’s Begun: I picture it turquoise and Summer of course

You’ve Got A Higher Power, You’re Once In Any Lifetime: For me it’s yellow and purple, I don’t know why and Winter, too

They Say That Time’s A Healer, How Long Is This Burn Supposed To Last: For me it’s brown and black (Kartoon colors) and Summer

Love In Slow Motion: It’s Gold and Autumn

Satellite: It’s purple and Winter (the fic goes over more than six months but yeah)

Under The Paris Sky: Light pink and Summer

Invisible String: Gold and brown and autumn/winter

My Arm Might Be Broken, But I Won’t Be Broken Down (the It’s a Larry life series): Royal blue and autumn

War Of Hearts: Red and autumn

Love Me If You Dare: Mint green and Winter (the fic happens over several years but winter is an important part of their lives)

Clear Blue Water, High Tide Came And Brought You In: Pink and blue and Spring

You’ve Taken My Heart By Storm: Orange/gold/silver and Summer

A huge thank you (again) to Morgane, who was just the sweetest person ever.

I really appreciate that you wanted to participate and therefore support this project so much.

Thanks for being so patient and curious throughout the whole process.

#DearWriterProject #larry stylinson #larry fic #fanfic #fanfiction #one direction #ao3 author #author interview #larry fanfiction #harry styles #louis tomlinson #ao3

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lonelycowgirls · 1 year

Text

Scared

Hey guys! Here we are again ✨

So, this is a long, angsty piece of work that I've been drafting for quite a while. I'm not sure where my inspiration came from, but I do like to write and explore deeper aspects of relationships and life. I really hope this doesn't rub anyone up the wrong way. These things happen every day and I for one feel very lucky to live in a country that operates on a pro-choice basis, for the most part. Whatever keeps a person alive and healthy is what I think is the priority. I won't get into the politics of it all, I'm purely reflecting life and its complex feelings and emotions through art.

Nevertheless, this is a part of Stella and Harry's story - it's entirely fictional and has nothing to do with the real people. I hope you all take it that way.

I also hope you enjoy reading it.

Nel x

WARNINGS | Unwanted Pregnancy | Adult Language | Minors DNI | Lots of Angst

Word count: 6.6k

2014

“Ah sweet, Emma put out the chocolate-covered raisins I asked her for,” Harry waltzed in from his rehearsal into the canteen area set up for the band and crew. He was beaming at the buffet table spread out before them, a child-like energy still so prevalent even at the age of 20. Stella had been staring into the bowl of potato salad for God knows how long by that point. “Y’alright, babe?” He nudged her side while popping a handful of the dried fruit sweets into his mouth.

“Yeah…” Stella glanced up at him before turning away and walking over to grab a banana from the fruit bowl. She tugged at the tip of the banana, but it wouldn’t budge. Tugging harder and scoffing with frustration before slamming the banana back onto the buffet table.

She screwed her eyes shut and ran a hand over her forehead, sighing heavily. When she opened them again she saw a peeled yellow fruit under her nose. She looked up at Harry and took the banana, she swallowed through her dry throat over the nausea crawling up from her nervy tummy. He winked and popped another raisin in his mouth over a smirk.

“I’m pregnant, Harry.”

He was almost sure his heart stopped for a few moments. The smirk fell the quickest it had ever fallen - she’d likely remember his facial response forever.

“What?” He whispered. His eyes were wide in shock, his blood ran cold with a shiver up his spine. She nodded, the tears welling in her eyes for what felt like the hundredth time since she’d found out. She couldn’t believe she’d become that girl. That girl in his life. The girl to ruin his life. “You,” He shakily attempted to draw in breaths to steady his racing heart. “No, no, y-you can’t be pregnant, you’re-”

“I’m on the pill.” She spoke over him, stepping back and running a sweaty palm through her hair. “I know, trust me I know, I’ve been questioning everything for days. Apparently it’s not 100 per cent effective.”

“We- you can’t be pregnant… I’m about to go on the biggest tour of my life.” He stepped back, stumbling on his feet slightly. He brought a hand up to his forehead and she watched his fingers shake.

“I know that-” she murmured quietly, but he cut her off again. He was panicking, now.

“We can’t have a baby- fuck.” He cursed, running both hands through his fast-growing curls and tugging at the back of his head. “We’re always so careful, right?” His voice was muffled through the sleeves of his top as his face was buried in his arms.

“I mean, yeah… I guess we needed to be more careful.” She sniffled, still not looking at him. She’d expected him to feel and react this way, but it still made the whole situation that much more emotional and scary. He snapped to look at her when he heard her small sob of sorrow.

“Shit, I’m so sorry, Stell. You should’ve told me as soon as you found out.” He leaned back against the buffet table, reeving up the cream tablecloth. Emma always complained about the stains that the boys would leave on it but still refused to get any other colour.

“I knew you’d react like this, H… I was scared.” She was folded in on herself now, protecting herself from the rejection she swore was coming.

“I know… I’m sorry, I’m just shocked. I never wanted to do this to you.” Stella looked at him with that. Their eyes locked, his shiny green with her deep brown.

“You haven’t done anything bad, Harry. In theory. There are things we can do… things we have to do.” They stayed silent for a moment as Harry racked his brain through the options he knew about from sex education lessons at school.

“Won’t that hurt though?” His eyebrows were tied in the middle, concern flooding his pale face. His shoulders were sunk, he looked like a helpless little boy. Nowhere near ready to be a father. She took a careful step towards him, unable to stop herself - he needed comforting.

“I’m sure it won’t hurt nearly as much as giving birth, H.” She laughed slightly, pushing a curl over his ear.

“I’m so sorry, Stell.” A large hand came to rest on her hip, a thumb stroking back and forth.

“You don’t have to be sorry. It takes two to tango… and I was a very willing dance partner.” She winked, trying to lighten the mood. She brought her fingers to his chest, two of them tracing the cross that rested on it.

“Are you sure you’re okay with… with what you have to go through.” He spoke barely above a whisper, looking down to try and find the appropriate words but coming up empty.

“I’m a big girl, Harry.” She was telling herself as much as him.

“Yeah, I know…” He smiled slightly, somewhat proud of how mature she was and just as thankful for it, too. “Just know, one day… the time will be right. We’ll have beautiful babies, as many as you wanna push out.”

“Yeah?” She cocked her head as he smirked and another hand moved to curve around her hip. “We’ll see about that, Mr Cheaper by the Dozen.” She chuckled as he finally scooped her up into his arms, the feeling giving her an immense amount of comfort. He breathed her in, his face nuzzled in her neck as she ran her hands up and down his back. “I love you so much, I think we’re gonna be okay.” She whispered into his shoulder. Pulling away slightly to look down in her eyes, Harry kept his arms around her and smiled softly.

“I can’t believe there’s a baby in there…” He smirked, eyes getting a bit glossy. Goosebumps instantly sparked all over her body, she flinched in his arms almost as if his words had physically struck her. Regardless of how softly and sincerely he’d said them. She moved to gently push him off but he held tighter.

“No, H… it’s not a baby. Not yet.” She shook her head, blinking the tears away. She was exhausted, having been up for nearly 24 hours by that point, worrying about this exact situation. She pushed harder and stepped out of his arms, but he let his palm graze her belly as she moved away. She began slowly pacing, hands raising to rub at her eyes.

“What do you mean?” He asked, confused by her sudden return to her stressful demeanour. He frowned, still leaning back against the buffet table.

“You can’t make this what it isn’t. You’ll… you’re making it harder.” Her breath was speeding up, a shaking hand being brought up to her chest as she fought the panic and nausea. He kept his hands by his sides now, fidgeting and anxiously picking at the skin around his thumbs with his forefingers.

“I don’t understand, babe.” He stated firmly, not knowing whether she needed his comfort or her space, but desperate to figure it out. Her pacing stalled in the middle of the room. A clear divide was now put between them.

“Harry, I have to go to the doctor’s and take a pill to get rid of this… whatever you can call this thing inside me. I can’t do that with the thought that it’s anything more than a speck in my womb. Alright? So, just don’t make this what it isn’t because I… I can’t.” She brought her hands to her face again, her breath catching in her throat as the anxiety continued to heighten and spill over. Harry stayed frozen, not knowing what to do, or how to help her. This was something he’d never been prepared for, he’d never learned about abortions in school or even discussed them with his mum or sister. His dad adopted the phrase, ‘Don’t be a fool, wrap your tool’ pretty much as soon as Harry turned 16. As far as he was concerned, Stella was still carrying his baby, no matter at what stage, which was making him feel unexpected things. He knew that right now wasn’t the time and it would be irresponsible of them, but he thought that if he romanticised it a little bit, she’d still feel loved and accepted by him. Boy, was he wrong.

“We need to tell someone-” Harry offered, his eyes following her pacing feet. She came to a halt again at his words.

“No. No, we can’t tell anyone.” She motioned with her hands, emphasising how serious she was.

“Have you even told your mum?” Harry reasoned, brow furrowed. Stella told her mum everything. He was sure her mother knew more about their relationship than he probably did.

“No, she’d kill me if she found out.”

“Well, maybe you can tell Dolly?” Harry grasped at straws, he thought she might need another woman’s opinion. He’d definitely be telling Gemma at some point, he knew she’d have comforting words. Most probably after thumping him on the back of the head for being so stupid as to get his 19-year-old girlfriend up the duff in the first place.

“I don’t know, Harry. I think it’s best nobody knows, I don’t want this following me.” The pacing returned.

“Well, I’ve gotta tell my mum,” Harry said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Why?!” The pacing stopped again, she looked at him like he’d suddenly grown a second head on his shoulder.

“Because she’s my mum, Stell. She knows more than me about this stuff. She’ll know what to say.” Stella didn’t doubt that, but she couldn’t bare Anne knowing that they’d been irresponsible enough to have to get an abortion. If she was scared of what her mum would think, she couldn’t summon the thought of Anne knowing.

“And you don’t think she’s gonna be disappointed?” Harry was quiet at that, folding his arms and dropping his gaze to the floor again. “You don’t think she’ll judge us? Judge me?” Stella stepped forward on each question, a fire behind her eyes now. She almost looked wild, her eyes bloodshot from the lack of sleep and her body almost vibrating with emotion.

“You know she’s not like that. She’ll understand. Yeah, she might be a bit shocked and sad that you’re getting rid of it but-”

“Oh, I’m getting rid of it? It’s just me, yeah? It’s all me, I’m dealing with your baby but it’s none of your business.” Stella was beyond help now, spitting venom in the quiet room. He’d not seen her act this way before.

“No… no, you know that’s not what I mean,” Harry said quietly, sounding fed up now as he dragged a hand across his face in exasperation. She stared at him with wide eyes, daring him to look at her. “I don’t know how to talk to you right now.” He grumbled, holding his hands up in surrender, before swiftly moving towards the door.

“Oh, fuckin’ hell, fine, do that! Lucky you can just walk away from this while I’m left to sort it out!” Her screeching words were punctuated by him slamming the door. “Prick.”

“Hiya, baby girl! How are you guys? How’s the tour rehearsals? Tell me everything!” Dolly’s beaming face on the other end of the FaceTime was almost making Stella feel better. Almost.

“It’s… it’s good, yeah. Can get a bit boring sometimes, but it’s nice to be able to go to bed with Harry every night.” She tried to sound happy and upbeat, hoping that her big sister wouldn’t see through her.

“Oh, girl I bet it is.” Dolly’s perfectly plucked eyebrows danced with a suggestive smirk, making Stella scoff.

“Not just for that reason, Doll. We go to the hotel pools or gyms together, then we go to dinner or we get a takeaway, the takeaways are a bit shit here though, I said to H I’d kill for a-”

“Okay, what’s going on, Stell?” Dolly asked suddenly. “You’re all flappy and flustered. Your eyes are bloodshot to fuck. Tell me what’s going on.” Stella sighed, dropping her head down onto her arm, willing the tears to stay in her damn eyeballs. She was sick of crying at that point. Deep down she knew that her sister would pick up on the signs straight away, she’d subconsciously called her for this exact reason. She just thought she’d have a little more time to get her courage up.

“You’re gonna be so upset with me.” Stella sobbed, fully crying now that she actually had to say the words. Dolly’s face was full of worry, whatever this news was, she was scared to know now.

“I won’t be upset, Stell. We can get through anything, but you’ve got to tell me.” Stella tried to take deep breaths, just so she could allow the words to leave her lips. “Stella, please, just tell me.”

“I’m… fucking pregnant, Dolly.” Dolly’s face fell into shock, her hand flying up to her mouth.

“Oh my God,” her eyes instantly filled with tears. “Stell…” She awkwardly laughed in disbelief, unexpected emotions bubbling up.

“I know.” Stella shook her head, eyes shut, tears still flowing.

“Fuck, okay. It’s fine. It’s gonna be fine.” Dolly dabbed her eyes with her fingers, trying not to smudge her winged eyeliner. “You obviously can’t tell Mum.”

“This is what I said to Harry! It would go down like a fart in a lift.” Dolly laughed and Stella joined in, it felt like the first time she’d laughed for a week straight. It felt good to make light, somewhat, of a very stressful situation. “I’ve got an appointment to get an abortion on Friday morning.”

“Ah Stell, you’re gonna… deal with it?” It was telling how nobody seemed to be able to say the actual word - it was one of the reasons Stella knew she’d be judged.

“I can’t have a baby right now, Dolly. Harry’s 20 years old. He’s having the time of his bloody life.” Stella blew out a soggy breath through her pouting lips, sniffing over the tail end of her tears.

“What about you?” Dolly asked, the conversation pausing for a moment. “I’m hearing a lot about Harry and not a lot about Stella.” Dolly rest her head on a fist as she looked in the camera lens.

“I… I can’t have a baby.” Stella’s hand absentmindedly landed on her lower belly, running her palm along the material of her t-shirt. “I’m not ready… there’re things I want to do. Things I want to accomplish. I especially can’t have Harry Styles’s baby. Can you imagine? I don’t want to be just his baby mama.” Stella anxiously cringed inwardly at the potential headlines. “The girl chasing for child support… the girl waiting at home looking after the kids while he’s off seeing the world… the girl left behind…” she whispered, trailing off with her eyes focused on the lamp on the bedside table.

“I get that. You’re gonna be more than that, of course, you are.” Dolly smiled over fresh tears welling up for her baby sister. When Harry first became famous, everyone was so excited, Dolly remembered it like it was yesterday. She’d watched Stella enjoy it, for a while. Recently she’d watched her struggle with it, watched her fade into the background. She’d never been truly accepted into his new lifestyle. By the people who were begging to be around him, or by his fans - everyone knew why, including Stella. But Dolly also knew she was in love with Harry, had been for years, and she wanted her sister to be happy. So she vowed she’d always be there to pick up the pieces when it all started to fall apart. “I wish I could come and be with you but I’m knee-deep at fashion week.”

“No, I know, of course, I understand. I’ll be fine.” Stella spoke sadly, as much as she secretly hoped someone in her family would be able to come and support her, she’d never want any of them to drop everything, for this of all things.

“Is Harry going with you?” Dolly questioned, casually.

“He can’t, he’s got rehearsals,” Stella mumbled, picking at a nail.

“Oh, for God’s sake, surely they’d understand-”

“Well no, because we can’t tell anyone.”

“Can’t you just say you’ve got an important doctor's appointment?”

“Isn’t it a bit obvious if we say we both need to go?”

“Well, maybe… but it’s not fair for you to have to deal with it all on your own. It’s scary.” Stella’s belly flipped again at the thought of the abortion, but she knew she could do it. It wasn’t an ideal situation, but she would be fine. She had to be.

“It is a little. But it’s supposed to be not too bad, I Googled it and apparently, the worst of the pain is over in a few hours, so I’ll be back at the hotel and in bed for the bad bits.”

“Okay,” Dolly didn’t sound as convinced. “What’s he thinking anyway, is he freaking out?”

“He’s… I haven’t seen him since he walked out on me yesterday.”

“What?!” Dolly sat up straight in her chair at this revelation. Her eyes bulged behind her glasses. “He walked out on you? Surely fucking not.”

“We had an argument and he walked out. Slammed the door and everything. I do kind of get it to be fair, I’ve basically given him the worst news imaginable.” Stella looked up at the lamp on the bedside table again. “I almost didn’t tell him because I thought he’d dump me.”

“Aw Stell, I don’t think he’s like that is he? He’d be an idiot to throw away three years together and he’d be a dick for doing it over a pregnancy scare, especially.” Dolly’s face was as serious as her tone. “I know I’d never forgive him.”

“Well, it’s not looking good now anyway. He’s off sulking somewhere.” Stella rolled her eyes. “I’ve gotta go, I’m knackered and just wanna sleep. I’ll text you.”

“Okay, sis. Look after yourself. Speak soon, keep me in the loop. I love you!”

“Love you, too,” Stella replied, sighing as she flopped back against the plush hotel pillows and dropped her phone onto the bedside table. She was too angry to text Harry first or to ask anyone where he was either. None of the boys knew what was going on so they hadn’t bothered her, which she took as a win. She glanced around the room, Harry’s suitcase lay open in front of the dressing table, the contents spilling out in a mess onto the floor, as usual. Was he still wearing the same pants from yesterday? How had he brushed his teeth? She wondered to herself but then reasoned that he could literally just ask Carrie, the tour manager, to get him anything he needed. He didn’t need her. He didn’t need anyone, really.

A heavy knock on the door shook Stella out of her thoughts with a firm jolt to her body. She sighed, tossing the duvet from her body and dragging her feet towards the direction of the sound. Forgoing the peephole, she cracked the door open, peering through. There Harry stood, in the same clothes he’d been in since the day before. In his arms was a huge brown paper bag, emblazoned with the familiar golden yellow arches they’d become way too accustomed to since landing in the US. Glancing down further, her eyes caught on the fluffy pink slippers that adorned his feet. She smirked at them before quickly covering by folding her lips into her mouth and narrowing her eyes at his face.

“You think a Maccy’s is gonna fix this?”

“We’re not broken, baby.” He said with his own smirk and a shake of his head. His eyes widened, “Sorry, poor choice of words.”

Stella rolled her eyes and opened the door fully, stepping to the side so he could waltz into their hotel room. Just watching him cross the threshold had her body sagging with contentedness. She’d been tensely on edge for far longer than what would be considered a healthy amount for a 19-year-old. But for a 19-year-old pregnant girlfriend of a boyband member? That scale may be marked differently.

“Where’d you get the slippers?” She said to the back of his head.

“Got fed up of my boots, so Lou let me borrow these of hers,” Harry mumbled, dropping the paper bag onto the dressing table before collapsing back on the bed with a huff and a deep sigh. She looked at him, sprawled out on the white duvet, his lanky legs hanging off the edge, arms splayed out either side of him, eyes shut, lips parted. Stella thought back to her conversation with Dolly and felt anger flow through her veins again. Moving to the sofa against the wall of their suite, she picked up a throw pillow before launching it at Harry’s head. He huffed in surprise, not able to get a word in before she did.

“You don’t get to come back in here like nothing’s changed, Harry.” She said, getting upset all over again. Harry clutched the pillow to his stomach, coming up to a sitting position. “You left me yesterday not knowing if you’d ever come back.”

“Obviously I was gonna come back, I just needed space, Stell.”

“Yeah? Well, I needed you.” Harry was silent, his mouth hung open, catching flies. “Why do I have to be the strong one? When you didn’t come to bed, I didn’t know whether it was over or not yesterday… thought I might even have Carrie coming up here telling me to pack my stuff because we were done.”

“Stella, I’d never do that to you. I… I can’t believe you’d even think I would end things like that.” He frowned hard, hand coming up to his chest. “Do you really think that’s who I am?”

“I don’t know, Harry. This is the point!” She threw her arms in the air. “You left me in the unknown.” They came back down to slap her hotel robe-covered sides. “That’s what fucking hurts.” She pointed to her heart as her voice faltered.

“Stella, you were laying into me, I didn’t know what else to do. I didn’t know what else to say!” Harry’s chest was heaving slightly, panic and anger mixing and rising. “Everything I say to you lately is wrong.”

“Don’t make me out to be some sort of psycho, Harry. I’m going through a lot right now.”

“Ugh, God there you go again!” He tossed the cushion back onto the sofa it came from, getting up to move away from her, arms flying in exasperation. He took a deep breath to try and calm himself before turning back with his hands on his hips. “I’m not trying to make you out as anything, I’m literally just trying to talk to you… I don’t know what to do to help you.”

“No, you don’t.” Stella laughed humourlessly, she looked down at her fidgeting feet. Her arms came to surround her tired torso. “I’ve had enough… let’s just get ready for bed.” Harry ran a hand over his face and moved towards his open suitcase, starting to unbutton his jeans. Stella wandered over to the ensuite to brush her teeth, speaking before she closed the door, “I think you should get the sofa bed out.”

Stella had been tossing and turning for over an hour, occasionally shifting up to glance at Harry on the sofa bed. He was on his side, a long leg thrown over the top of the spare blanket they’d found in the wardrobe. He always slept like a brick, no matter where he was forced to lay his head.

Dropping her head back onto the pillow, she wondered if they’d make it through this one. She didn’t want to lose what they had but she was too proud to accept the way he’d behaved about this whole situation. They were only young but their lives together would bring so much more turbulence and she didn’t want to have to be the one to guide him through it all the time, while he pranced about with everyone thinking he was perfection personified.

She knew what people said about him, how they talked about him, the words they used. They idolised him. They couldn’t understand why he’d chosen her. Of all the options he had. She’d mostly gotten over the insecurity of their younger years together, but every so often, it would start to swim around her head again and make her doubt herself again. And doubt them as a partnership.

She wanted to respond to people who pointed out her seemingly endless list of flaws and say, ‘Hey, he’s got plenty, too.’ Not that they’d believe her. He was still a man at the end of the day. And men did stupid shit. Like, walk out on their pregnant girlfriends for a day and a half, while they’re away from home and she’s about to get an abortion.

“Hey,” Stella jolted awake, she must have dozed off in her thoughts. Harry’s voice was soft and gentle, his light strokes on her back were even more so. She made no move to turn over, just nudged her head slightly to signal she was listening. “I can’t completely get out of rehearsals… but I’ll make sure I’m here when you get back. Okay? I’ll make sure of it, I’ll make some sort of excuse and I’ll be here.”

Harry watched her breathing, biting his bottom lip when she still didn’t move. “This is all my fault…” His voice wobbled over the words, making Stella’s heart sink. She finally rolled over to see him leaning over the bed on his arms, fists digging into the mattress. Leaning up on her elbow, she brought a hand to his cheek, she stroked with her thumb and shook her head.

“It’s not all your fault, Harry. It’s not.” Her hand slid down to his neck and to his bare shoulder, giving him a subtle pull to signal his welcome into the bed beside her. He quickly obliged before she could change her mind, pulling the duvet up to his chin, almost swallowing her head up completely in the heavy covering. “We’ve both just… made mistakes. It’ll all be over soon.” Her voice held a melancholy that encapsulated their complicated scenario completely. The sadness of the loss, the anguish of the toll it was taking on their relationship, the relief that there was a safe solution available to them.

“I should be comforting you, I don’t know why I couldn’t do that. I think, I just…” Harry’s eyes were cast down in thought. He really didn’t know why he reacted the way he did. He surely wasn’t proud of it, but he had to do it. Something inside him told him to run away for a bit until he could think straight.

“We’re scared, H. We’re just kids still, this is heavy… we’re working it all out.” She fiddled with the lining of the pillowcase that was under his head.

“I don’t wanna lose you.” His voice was so quiet, dripping with sincerity. His hand itched to touch her, to grab her and pull her close, just to emphasise how much he meant it. But he didn’t want to overstep his welcome. “I hate when you’re angry with me.”

“Stop making me angry then.” Stella teased, her eyes flicking up for a second with a smirk before looking at her fiddling fingers again. Harry chuckled lightly.

“I’ll try.” Stella bit her lip, looking at his dark silhouette again, with hooded eyes begging her for sleep. She leaned forward to press a tiny peck to his lips, his arm secured her to him to place a successful three more to hers. She then turned in his hold for a few minutes, him hugging her so tight, their bodies slotting together naturally. She rested there for a few minutes, before nudging herself free to shift across the bed and snuggle down into her own side. Harry’s heart ached as he stared at the back of her head, so close but still so far. But he knew he needed to put his own feelings second, at least for now. He needed to take her lead on this one and respect her boundaries. Besides, she’d never steered him wrong thus far.

Stepping out of the back emergency exit of the family planning clinic, Paul, one of the band’s bodyguards and one of Harry’s closest friends and confidants, guided her to the haven of the tinted windowed vehicle waiting for her in the car park. The whole thing had felt like a Mission Impossible movie, except Stella was more of an Austin Powers than an Ethan Hunt. She had her most oversized cardigan on, along with Harry’s biggest, darkest sunglasses and one of Niall’s caps, hood up. She’d signed into the clinic with a pre-arranged dummy name that was called out into the waiting room. Luckily, there were only three other people waiting to be seen and they all looked too caught up in their own lives to care about her presence. Which made a really nice change. She’d almost forgotten the concept of people not giving a shit about her or what she was wearing or how she acted.

She was sure she wouldn’t be able to describe the way her body felt if she tried. The phrase ‘emotionally drained’ could never be more appropriately used. Harry had kept her up half the night with his tossing and turning and the other half she’d kept herself up with her own tossing and turning. Which was out of character for him, but he was so worried that she would be papped - or worse still, spotted by fans - that he was moving like a man possessed.

Halfway through the struggle of the night, she’d decided it best to try and calm him by drawing patterns on his bare back. Running her nails up and down, side to side and in circular shapes, softly letting her fingertips glide on their journey. She did it often because she knew he loved it, that night she felt he needed it. It calmed her too, feeling his warm, smooth skin on hers. Once she began hearing his quick breaths slow to a relaxed pace and then finally to a soft snore, she stopped and turned over as slow as she could so as not to disturb him again, falling asleep at last, but for an hour at most. When she woke up with a jolt, his side was empty, sheets crumpled and unmade as usual.

As Paul began to drive she took a deep breath, took her cap and glasses off and willed herself to feel something. To feel something for what she’d just done, but she didn’t. She’d done her best to block out the intrusive thoughts of believing that she was a murderer, purely to stay sane through all of this. But now she felt like a cold heartless monster, almost like she’d gone the completely opposite way. No one would ever know what she’d done, but she always would. Dolly always would. Harry always would. Now, Paul always would. She trusted Harry as much as he trusted her; as much as to not force her into signing an NDA. So she knew he’d never tell a soul, should things not work out between them in the end. But they were forever changed from this moment, well, from the moment she’d watched the little red lines show up on that plastic stick.

Don’t feel guilty, don’t feel guilty, don’t feel guilty, don’t-

“Ya alright there, sugar?” She jumped slightly at Paul’s deep Irish voice piping up from the front. She met his eyes in the rearview mirror and noted the kindness in the blue, he wasn’t judging her, she could sense that. All he wanted was for her to be okay. She nodded wordlessly, pulling her cardigan sleeves over her fingers and leaning to look out of the window again.

Paul scanned her card for her and allowed her to step through the hotel room door, which she allowed after multiple attempts at telling him that she could do it herself fell on deaf ears. He carried her handbag, too.

Harry jumped up from where he’d been led back on the bed, an arm propping his head up and his phone in hand, mindlessly scrolling as he tried not to lose his mind overthinking that his girlfriend might die from a noninvasive, tried and tested medical procedure. He’d been on the phone to Gemma since he’d gotten back to the room after telling the boys and the crew that he had a migraine. He couldn’t stop himself, he wanted to know what he needed to do to help Stella when she returned from her treatment. He felt a bit guilty about going against her wishes of not telling anyone, but he was unaware that Stella had already told Dolly.

He stopped a few feet in front of her, fidgeting from one foot to the other, fiddling with the side hems on his jeans. She looked so small and defeated. She smiled at him softly, trying to show gratitude that he was there, just like he’d promised he would be. Paul nodded once at Harry before handing Stella her bag and squeezing her shoulder, throwing a final salute before letting the door shut with a soft click.

“Well, it’s done,” Stella said, dropping her bag onto the sofa and perching herself on the end of the bed to slide her trainers off. Harry stayed put, watching her.

“How do you feel? Does it hurt yet?” He kept his voice gentle like he was approaching a wounded deer.

“No, I feel fine at the moment, only happened about an hour ago though and the doc said I should expect some pain around the two to four-hour mark.” Once both shoes were off, she stayed still, only fiddling with the threads pulling from her cardigan.

“Okay.” They sat in silence for a minute or two, before Harry finally worked himself up to move to a crouch in front of where she sat. He cupped her slightly chubby cheek, her eyes stayed downcast, lashes fluttering. His thumb stroked under her puffy eye and she brought her hand up to wrap her fingers around his wrist. “I’m really proud of you, Stell. You’re so brave, much braver than me.” She still didn’t look at him, her bottom lip tucking inwards as she shook her head slightly.

“I feel nothing, Harry.” She voiced, barely above a crackled whisper. “Why don’t I feel anything?” He frowned, shaking his head.

“I don’t know, babe. You said the doctors mentioned it would take a few hours to-”

“No, I mean I don’t feel anything.” Her words were juxtaposed with the lone tear that began to trail down her face.

“Oh. That’s alright, you’re not a bad person if that’s what you’re thinking… you did what was right for you… and for us.” He tried not to make it about him again, he knew she definitely didn’t need that. “Like you said, it wasn’t really a baby, it was just a pocket of cells in your uterus.”

Stella huffed out a laugh, “You been Googling?”

“Nah, Gem told me.” Harry laughed softly, eyes flashing with realisation when Stella flinched, eyes finally meeting his. “Shit.” Stella couldn’t even find the energy to argue, she just rolled her eyes and moved her head to the side to press a kiss to his palm and his wrist that she still had hold of on her face.

“Don’t worry about it, H. I suppose it was harsh of me to say you couldn’t tell your family.” She knew she hadn’t handled this very well. Inside, she was grateful that he’d talked it out with someone. “What else did she say?” He stood up straight, both his knees clicking on the way. She puffed out another laugh as he stretched out exaggeratedly like an old man.

“She said,” He held out his hand to help her up. “That I should take care of you. That I should rub your belly, if you’d like that?” Stella nodded. He led her up the bed by the hand, flipping the duvet over. He slid her cardigan off her shoulders, before flicking his head up and running his hands up her arms as she lifted them over her head. He then pulled her t-shirt off, leaving her in just her soft lounging bra. “She said that I should get you your favourite food, which is gonna be hard to do since you like Cadburys chocolate and roast dinners and we’re in America.” He flicked her nose with his finger and she swatted at him. Stella giggled along anyway, brushing a hand through his curls as he bent to pull her leggings down her legs. Once both of her feet were free, he pressed kisses back over her tummy, the tops of her breasts and her neck, as he made his way back up to stand. He bent to wrap his arms around her waist and bury his face in her neck, hugging her close. She, in turn, wound her arms around his neck, scratching his nape and inhaling his scent. He pulled back and turned her so she could climb into the bed.

Once the covers were over her, he jogged in small steps back round the bed, getting his t-shirt and jeans off in quick succession, something she knew him to do regularly, but in different circumstances. He slid into the bed and faced her, breathing a sigh of relief when she shuffled closer to him and tangled her legs with his. “Then she said,” he murmured, low and slow, tucking hair behind Stella’s ear. “To tell you how much I love you and that I support you.” He brought her closer still, trailing his fingers up and down the curve of her waist. “I’m sorry I was a dick.” He whispered.

“She told you to say that, too?”

“Nah, that one was all me.”

“Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t know when I’ll be… okay, again.” She looked down again, not meeting his eyes. His brows pulled in.

“That’s alright, Stell.”

“I mean… in a lot of ways.” She whispered, wanting him to get the message without her having to say it out loud. “Specifically… in that way.” She looked in his eyes briefly to solidify her point.

“Stella, you’ve just had an abortion, I’m not a horny monster.” To be truthful, both of them were feeling a little bit of PTSD from the experience, they needed to live a bit more of a wholesome lifestyle for a while. “Don’t worry about all that. We’ll just worry about what’s up here for a while,” He tapped her temple with his finger. “Instead of what’s down there.” She smiled, so relieved that he was being so understanding and mature. “Plus, distance makes the heart grow fonder. Once you’re ready to go, it’s gonna go OFF.” She knew it was too good to be true. He was still a 20-year-old man, she supposed. It still didn’t fail to make her a little excited, deep inside.

“You’re so good.” She said, playing with the ends of his hair that just kept getting longer.

“You are.” He responded, rubbing his nose with hers.

“Yeah… we’re good.”

If you'd like to read other pieces from this universe click here.

#harry styles #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic rec #harry styles angst #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry styles fluff #harry styles x oc #harry styles concept #starry <3 #btaa

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zoeysdamn · 2 years

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Bark, Bite & Break Bones - Tyler Galpin x Van Helsing!reader |Part.1

Summary: Recently released from juvie by a court’s order, you go back to Nevermore academy to meet with the school board who had negotiated your parole in exchange for a very special mission. Trying to put your bitterness aside, you reluctantly agree and meet the infamous Hyde. What could go wrong with Tyler Galpin, after all?

Warnings: swearing, light violence

A/N: Might be some OOC, but I had so much fun writing this! Also, I made the reader and Tyler being a year older than the usual gang (Wednesday, Enid and co.) for both plot reasons and bc it sounds legit to me (it’ll make reader and Tyler between 17 and 18 - end of high school - and the other between 16 and 17). And I took some liberties and extrapolated a lot of information we don’t exactly have, such as the school board etc. This is fanfiction after all, let’s try things!

[Masterlist] [Prologue]

Being born with a significant family name comes with perks: destiny already chosen, power coming with the name and ancestors' history, people already knowing you without ever meeting you, due respect. Well, if someone asked for your opinion, they would learn all of this was pure bullshit.

As a Van Helsing, traditions had always ruled your existence, crawling their way in every aspect of your life. The mission of monster hunters started by your ancestor Abraham Van Helsing left no doubts in everyone's mind; before you could even talk or walk, it was obvious that you would learn how to throw a knife before losing your baby teeth, know all of the family's bestiary like the back of your hand by 10, and go to your first hunt for your 12th birthday. It was obvious that the family heritage and monster hunting duty would carry on with you. But then, your parents had a change of heart, and got you enrolled in Nevermore. Needless to say, the arrival of a Van Helsing at the very place creatures were supposed to be safe wasn’t pleasant, not even to you. The news of your return must’ve been even harder to swallow.

“Principal Weems is expecting you in her office,” informed Vlad, the fencing team coach as you got out of the car and grabbed your luggage.

He had been asked to pick you up from the detention center and bring you back to the academy. You had almost laughed at the irony of the situation – a vampire charged to be responsible for a Van Helsing – but had refrained yourself. You had to keep your sarcasm for Weems and the school board. Some students around you gave you curious looks, but you ignored them. They probably were younger or hadn’t recognized you yet.

With coach Vlad on your tail, you made your way to the principal’s office, encountering a few shocked faces from students around your age. Their astonished faces brought a smirk on yours; so they hadn’t forgotten about your last stay here completely. Good.

When you entered Weems' office, the whole school board was there, watching you like hawks. You remembered them vaguely from the last time you’ve been at Nevermore, an old vampire lady who looked like a Victorian character, a middle-aged gorgon whose sunken cheeks made him more severe than he was, a ginger and long-haired witch, and a dashing blond medium who reeked of fake smiles. The odd yet powerful bunch you owed your freedom to, much to your displeasure.

“You’re late,” pointed out the vampire bitterly.

Her frontal attack made you snort, “Sorry your highnesses, got lost in time while murdering a bunch of students in the way,” you said with a mocking over-exaggerated bow.

Your mocking comment made her purse her lips in annoyance, so her colleague Gorgon took over before she snapped something unlady-like, “I suppose you’re aware of the reason for your presence here, Miss Van Helsing?”

Shrugging slightly, you nodded, “I’m to be the bodyguard of the new student/murderer or something like that. Can’t imagine how much it must hurt your pride to have to call me back here.”

The uneasy and irritated tension in the room just became heavier at your words; none of the people here wanted you here, not even you. Yet, you didn’t have a choice.

“So,” you began to get this meeting started – the sooner into it, the quicker out of it, “what exactly are my missions?”

Glad you addressed the question, the ginger witch cleared her throat and invited you to sit with a sign of the hand, “Due to a court’s decision, the school is to welcome the Hyde responsible for Jericho’s murders. This is the occasion for us to restore a good reputation for Nevermore, should we succeed in his reinsertion smoothly.”

“That’s where you need me,” you completed for her, slightly surprised by her brutal honesty.

The witch nodded, “That’s where we need you,” she repeated. “Given your specific…skills, you’re the most designated person to supervise him during the school year.”

“For his own safety or yours?” you asked with a raised eyebrow.

The blonde medium scoffed, muttering something along the lines of “what would he need protection”, but his colleagues ignored him and the vampire carried on. “Both, Miss Van Helsing. It’s in everyone’s interest that this experimental reinsertion works.”

“You do realize that you’ll drop a guy who can kill in a school full of people who hate him? How exactly do you expect this to be a success?”

The blonde medium gave you a lopsided grin, “Well, that’s why you’re here now, aren’t you? To prevent some unnecessary trouble from happening.”

You snorted loudly, “Ah, and I’m the most designated one to play peace keepers of course. I have no problem with handling the Hyde if things go out of hands, but for your students, ask the teachers do to their fucking job.”

Principal Weems, who stayed silent until then, spoke up.

“The teachers will take care of the students, I can assure you. Your sole mission is to make sure that Mister Galpin doesn’t represent a threat to anyone.”

“And to neutralize him if he does become one,” quipped the Gorgon, eliciting a nod from everyone else.

Their sudden agreement sounding like a discussion-closer made you frown. There was something that still didn’t sit right with you.

“Okay spill,” you irritably said, “why me? Who bribed you into this idea?”

All the members of the board got up without gracing you with any answer, bid their goodbyes to Weems and made their way to the door.

“Answer me,” you called them from your seat, “which fucker had the brilliant idea to use me as a political lifeguard?”

“You should thank them for once, Miss Van Helsing,” said the vampire lady as her colleagues got out of the room, “they gave you an unexpected occasion to redeem yourself.”

You whipped your head in Weems’ direction as the door closed behind the board.

“Do you know who suggested this deal to the court, yes or no?” you asked her bitterly.

“I do,” she nodded, “and as a sign of good faith, I’m going to tell you. Your parents had made this suggestion.”

With a loud groan you slumped deeper into your chair, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“For fuck’s sake,” you grumbled, “of course they did. Always sticking their noses in someone else's business.”

“They’re your parents, Miss Van Helsing,” reminded Principal Weems with a harsher voice, “they’re doing what they believe is best for you.”

“Exactly,” you snapped bitterly, “what they believe is best for me. They don’t fucking know me, and this is only a political move for their stupid pacifist campaign.”

Weems sighed loudly at your angry reaction to your parents’ mention, then straightened up.

“I’m not going to dig into your family business any further, but you’re one of my students again now, miss Van Helsing,” she said calmly, “I’d appreciate it if you'd keep your flowery language out of our exchanges from now on.”

Rolling your eyes at her, you agreed, “Fine, whatever.”

“Excellent. Here is your school schedule, your dorm room key, and Mister Galpin’s file.”

Getting up from your chair you grabbed the documents and started to browse through them. At your dorm assignment you raised an eyebrow.

“A single room? To what do I owe this luxury?”

Weems gave you a tight polite smile, “Considering how you value your personal space I thought this could be an olive branch in your direction.”

“Yeah,” you snorted, “this is also to prevent any potential roommate from trying to kill me in my sleep, right?”

The slightest nod of her head gave you confirmation. Well, whatever the reasons you were glad you had a room for yourself.

“What about Tyler?” you asked, searching through the documents Weems gave you, “is he also in a single room?”

To anyone else, your question could have been framed as an interested one; but Weems knew it was only you gathering all the information you would need to supervise the new student.

“No, he’s been paired with a student a year younger than the two of you,” she said. “He should be stopping by any moment now.”

As on cue, someone knocked on the door. At Weems’ invitation to enter, a lanky teenager wearing a beanie and with nervous eyes entered the room.

“You uh- you asked to see me Mrs W?” he stuttered anxiously.

You watched him carefully, analyzing every single one of his movements and his physical traits. In a handful of seconds you could easily guess he was a Gorgon. Old habits of a hunter didn’t die easily. The weight of your watchful gaze sent shivers down the boy’s back, even if he tried to ignore you the best he could. Thankfully Weems cut short his uneasiness.

“Y/N Van Helsing, this is Ajax Petropolus, one of our Gorgon students. He’ll be Mister Galpin’s roommate for this school year.”

Internally, you applauded the decision. It was a smart move to assign him a Gorgon roommate; their dorm would be the only place you wouldn’t be able to watch over Tyler, if he tried anything his roommate could stone him. Clever.

The hand you offered him to shake made Ajax slightly jump.

“Nice to meet you,” you said flatly. “Don’t worry I don’t bite,” you said at his evident nervousness, “at least not you this time.”

Despite the uneasiness coursing through his veins for being so close to a known monster hunter, Ajax shook your hand, “N-nice to meet you too.”

Weems glared at you for your teasing but cleared her throat, “Mr Petropolus has agreed to take part in this reinsertion program, and he’ll give you information if you need it. I thought it was important for the two of you to meet.”

You rolled your eyes but then turned to the nervous Gorgon with a serious look, “For how long can you stone people?”

“Uh- two hours mostly,” he said nervously, and you nodded.

“That should be enough if you ever need to stop him as a last resort. Are you afraid of him?”

“I…yeah a bit.”

“Good,” you deadpanned, “then you’re not half stupid as I thought. Good luck with getting any sleep this year.”

Ajax threw a last glance at Weems that motionned to him he could leave the room. The boy had never fled a room so quickly.

“What?” you said at Weems’ new glare.

“Could you please refrain yourself from scaring every single student in this school?”

“Is either that or they hate me, can’t help myself,” you shrugged matter-of-factly. “So, when does that Tyler Galpin guy arrive at Nevermore?”

“Glad you asked Miss Van Helsing,” smiled Principal Weems, “you’re coming with me to pick him up from the detention center this afternoon.”

“Great,” you snorted, “a road trip with the Principal. Lucky me.”

Weems only kept her polite smile. That made you think about something you didn’t quite catch yet; noticing your starring, the principal raised an eyebrow at you.

“I don’t quite get how you survived to your allegated death,” you wondered out loud. “I clearly remember reading your obituary. Very touching, by the way.”

She pressed her lips in a thin line, not looking very fond of this traumatic episode. “The shapeshifting abilities had allowed me to change my body’s composition to handle the poison that had been administered to me,” she explained carefully, which made you raise an eyebrow in turn. You did know the theory of shapeshifting, but never heard of a case like that. “Unfortunately the dose I received was too strong to remain in this corporal form, so I had to adopt another body and lay low for some time in order to heal.”

You nodded in understanding, “Explains the faked death. You’ve got more guts than I thought, I'll give you that.”

“Get out of my office please,” sneered Weems.

With a mock salute you got up from your chair and gathered the documents and the key to your room. As you went to the door, Weems called you out.

“I’ll meet you at the entrance at 2 pm, when you’ll have retrieved your uniform.”

You froze in place and whipped your head in her direction, “Is this a fucking joke? The uniform? At least tell me you gave me the boy’s version and not that fucking skirt.”

“Rules are rules Y/N,” she smiled, not even half sorry about it.

“Aww c’mon Principal Weems,” you smirked bitterly, “it’s the 21st century now. A girl can wear pants, I swear it’s socially acceptable now.”

“Good day Miss Van Helsing,” she said flatly.

Opening the door of her office you huffed loudly, “And people think Van Helsings are the old-fashioned one.”

With that, you slammed the door. This was going to be a long, long year.

A few hours later you stood in front of the detention center in your uniform, and a deep frown on your face. Although you had absolutely refused to wear the skirt outside of the Nevermore grounds and wore jeans, Weems hadn’t said anything. As long as you were here to do your job, the shirt, tie and blazer would suffice. Leaning against the car hood as you wait, you mind-absently played with your favorite sliding knife, twirling it between your fingers. Standing stiff next to you, Weems glared at you on the side.

“I thought the non-weapon policy was quite clear,” she seethed between her teeth.

“You want me to do my job correctly, yes or no?” you shrugged, “And there was nothing about a non-weapon rule in that deal.”

Scoffing lightly, Weems readjusted the lapel of her coat, “Be discreet about it then. No need to make a scene.”

“Yes ma’am,” you said with a mock salute, pocketing the knife as the heavy door of the penitentiary opened.

Surrounded by two officers a curly brown-haired teenager approached, clinging on the strap of his bag for his dear life. His brown eyes were shifty, always avoiding looking at someone else. The red scars on his cheeks contrasted with the freckles and the frightened look that belonged more to the golden boy he must have been. Shoulders hunched, you almost thought he was about to cry. You repressed a roll of eyes; playing the frightened card, pathetically classic.

“Thank you gentlemen,” smiled Principal Weems politely, signing the release forms, “we’ll take it from here.”

The officers gave your pair a wary look – the tall, blonde, impeccably dressed woman, and the angry-looking teenager, hunching and glaring at everyone – but then shrugged and walked away without giving it much more thought.

“Hello Mr Galpin,” said Weems with her usual politeness, “it’s great to finally meet you in person.”

“Principal Weems I– it-it’s really an honor to join Nevermore, thank you so much for giving me a chance I–”

“This is Y/N Van Helsing,” she cut his rambling short, slightly turning in your direction, “she’ll be your tutor throughout your reinsertion year at Nevermore academy.”

Tyler turned in your direction, eyes wide in surprise and wet with tears. He looked like a rabbit caught in headlights, like he was afraid you’d tear him apart. Good.

“I’m a glorified bodyguard,” you specified while extending your hand to him. As soon as he grabbed your hand with his shaky one, you harshly tugged him closer. The sudden proximity of your faces made him blush slightly, along with the surprise caused by your unexpected gesture. Mouth barely inches from his, you locked your eyes with him.

“Listen here and listen closely Galpin,” you hissed lowly, “I’m here to make sure you won’t fuck this up. If you ever slip away from this good boy path they want to follow, even the slightest, I’ll put a bullet between your eyes without a sweat, is that clear?”

Through all your speech, your hand had been gripping his harder and harder, until your knuckles were white. Still, you could feel him shiver under your palm. He looked at you with fearful eyes, and at your dark and very much serious glare, nodded obediently.

“Wonderful,” you breathed out before releasing his poor hand.

Just before he pulled back, you thought you saw a glimpse of something else in his eyes. Like amusement, or cruel excitement. But given it was only for a split of second before the fright filled his look once more, you brushed it away. The second after, he was putting some distance between the two of you, giving Weems a dreadful look like begging her to come to his help. The Principal only sighed loudly and gestured to the two of you to get inside of the car. While she sat in the driver seat, you followed Tyler on the back of the car, where you’ll be able to watch him more closely. The proximity didn’t seem to make it at ease, given he practically pushed himself completely against the door to put the more distance he could between him and you. On the other hand you were quite pleased by that effect you had on him, even if the frightened little mouse behavior didn’t quite fit right with you. There was something off coming from this over-exaggerated mood of his, but it was yet too soon for you to say if he was playing this role consciously or not. You’ll have plenty of time to observe him after all.

At the end of a very awkward car ride – where only Weems spoke, in occasional short sentences giving Tyler some practical information about his stay at Nevermore – you all got out of the car. After making sure she wasn’t needed anymore, Weems left you to give Tyler a tour of the school grounds. Fortunately, most of the students were in class for the time being, so you won’t have to deal with angry teenagers yet. The last look Weems gave you before leaving the two of you at the quad was very clear: it was a first test, for Tyler and for you. For all answers, you rolled your eyes at her and turned to Tyler.

“Let’s go,” you groaned at the terrified-looking boy, “I’m gonna give you a tour of the place.”

Not expecting you to walk away so quickly, Tyler stumbled behind you trying to catch up as you pointed out flatly all the major locations of the school.

“S-so, you’re also a student here?” he stuttered, trying to engage in a discussion. “I didn’t think they…well you know, they’d trust me to be alone with another student…”

The snort you let out was bitter, “That’s why I’m here, pal. They don’t trust you, I’m here to do the dirty work if shit goes wrong.”

The thought of that didn’t seem to put him more at ease. “You’re gonna watch me for the rest of the year? Like- like all of it?”

“I’m literally back in this shit hole only to bodyguard you,” you groaned in confirmation. “Trust me there’s a thousand other places I’d rather be right now, so suck it up and deal with it, Whitney Houston.”

As he stayed confused at your words, Tyler noticed a bunch of students in an adjacent corridor glaring at your odd pair, eyes throwing daggers and hushed grumbles undoubtedly bitter. At first he hung his head low in shame, but then he realized that the hatred glances were probably more meant to you. It was confirmed to him as a passing by student muttered a “fucking bitch” under his breath, not giving a single glance at Tyler. Taken aback by the unexpected violence, Tyler looked at you, even more surprised by the evident lack of reaction. Not even a slight frown on your face, you carried on your tour.

“You- uh, don’t seem to be the popular type,” he chuckled nervously.

“No shit,” you said with a roll of your eyes as you reached the boys’ dormitory, “I’m a Van Helsing, meaning most of my ancestors hunted theirs, and let’s say I’m carrying out the family legacy.”

Tyler almost choked on his own air, “You hunt monsters? And you’re in a school for outcasts??”

Sliding the key in the door lock of his room you gave him a playful wink and a grin over your shoulder, “What, you think I volunteered for this job because of your pretty face? I’m the muscles here pal, don’t get your hopes high.”

Swinging the door open, you were welcomed by the sight of Ajax jumping on his feet nervously. The poor boy must have been plagued with anxiety all day at the prospect of his new roommate's arrival. The two boys glanced at each other shyly, looking more frightened by the other’s presence than anything else. You sighed loudly, pulling them out of this tetanized rabbits staring contest.

“Ajax Petropolus, Tyler Galpin,” you said, pointing out one then the other of the teenagers. “Tyler Galpin, Ajax Petropolus your roommate.”

“It’s uh- nice to meet you,” said Tyler with an outstretched hand.

Ajax eyed it warily before carefully shaking it, “Yeah…nice to meet you too I guess?”

“I will have my own room in the girls’ dorm, but Ajax can stone you if needed,” you said matter-of-factly, eliciting a dumbfounded look from Tyler.

“Stone me?”

“Oh yeah, I’m a Gorgon,” clarified Ajax with a small nervous laugh. “Medusa and all that, y’know?”

While Tyler stared at him with eyes wide like saucers, you turned to Ajax and outstretched your hand to him.

“Phone,” you said sharply.

The Gorgon looked at you in surprise, “What? Why? What do you want to do?”

“Browsing your internet history and sending it to your mom,” you snickered before rolling your eyes at his mortified expression, “I’m gonna put my number in it, what do you think?”

This didn’t make him react either, if anything he was even paler than before. So you sighed and reached for his pocket to pick his phone and quickly saved your contact in it.

“Here,” you said while putting it on his desk, “if anything happens you can reach me immediately.”

“O-oh,” finally let out the Gorgon with a shaky breath, “that’s why you wanted to– yeah I mean of course.”

You raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him, which made him stutter even more. His awkwardness amused you but you really, really wanted to take a nap right now. So you turned to Tyler, who fidgeted nervously with the strap of his bag.

“I’m gonna let you settle down here, dinner is at 7 I’ll pick you up. Don’t be late, or your stay at Nevermore will be much shorter than expected, understood?”

He nodded his head and you didn’t wait any longer to get out of the room, leaving the awkward tension-filled room.

Walking through the corridors and ignoring the either surprised, frightened or dark glances on your way, you made a mental list of all the documents you’ll have to ask from Weems. Sure, you weren’t really happy about this situation, but it was a job like any other and you intended to do it properly. Meaning you needed to know everything about what happened at Nevermore since you had left the academy two years ago.

Lost in your thoughts you didn’t notice the figure of another student coming straight in your direction. It was only when they willfully bumped their shoulder into yours that you realized they were right in front of you.

Repressing a groan you looked up at them with your best glare, which turned into a mockingly delighted grin when you realized who it was.

“Aaaah Yoko, what a pleasure to see you again!” you cooed with evident sweet-laced venom in your voice, “love the gloomy blind vampire look, really looks better than the acne.”

“What the fuck are you doing here Van Helsing?” she seethed between her pointed teeth, “Has a deathwish?”

“Only on Thursdays,” you countered cockily with a wink.

That only seemed to anger her more, “I thought that it was clear that you weren’t welcomed here anymore. You’ve been stupid to come back after what happened.”

“And yet,” you mused as you cocked your head to the side, “I never was welcomed in the first place, was I? Even if you definitely made things much more pleasant if I remember correctly…”

The vampire growled and before you could even blink her hand shot at your throat, ready to claw it open and pinning you against the wall. But as quick, your own hand shot up, grabbing her wrist just as her acerated nails were about to reach your trachea. Back on the wall you chuckled darkly. No matter how hard she tried to claw at you, you kept her hand in an iron grip.

Tsking in a patronizing manner you gave her a lopsided grin, “Now, you know I’m into that kind of things, but I’m not sure that you’re looking for a rebound hookup with me, are you Teethy?”

“Don’t,” she growled, “You’re not ever calling me that again, you bitch.”

“Awww, loved you too,” you grinned, “by the way, how did your coven take the news? That you slept a Van Hel–”

Her hand tried to grab you again but your grip on her hand only tightened, “They don’t know and they never will,” she spat angrily, “and we weren’t dating.”

You gave a doubtful nod of the head, “Mmmmh yeah never said that, but we kinda did tho. But what would I know, I’m really not one who gives two shits about what my family thinks of me, right?”

Yoko didn’t respond but rage was painted all over her face, a thick vein ready to pop out of her forehead.

“Is that why you came back? To loathe at me after what you did?”

You scoffed and forcefully shoved her hand out of your way, pushing yourself off the wall, “Don’t flatter yourself Teethy, you’re not that special. I’m here for business, nothing more.”

Yoko snickered, “What, this Galpin son of a bitch? What are you now, his personal bodyguard?”

“Easy now babe, you know green doesn’t suit you,” you said with a roll of your eyes, “it does look fantastic on me though, I should know I wore it for two years.”

“What’s your point?” she spat, her patience running short.

“Don’t imagine things,” you said flatly, “I’m only here to make sure that Tyler guy doesn’t mess things up and neutralize him if he does. That’s what I’m doing best after all,” you shrugged. “As soon as the year is done I’m getting the fuck out of this shit-hole.”

She narrowed her eyes at you suspiciously but didn’t say anything more. Getting this as your cue, you started to walk past her to resume your way to your room.

“Soooo, if we’re done here with the empty threats I’m gonna leave your lovely blood-sucking company okay?”

“You’re not gonna last,” she warned you, but you only continued to walk.

“Big fucking news,” you called over your shoulder, “I live to disappoint!”

“No one will ever help you,” she continued.

“Boo-hoo, so sad!”

“You don’t know what he’s capable of!” she finally shouted. That made you stop and you turned to her, an eyebrow raised up. Yoko had a wicked smile on her usual composed face, “Maybe if we’re lucky you’ll just kill each other.”

Staring at her silently for a few seconds, you then let out a snort.

“Well, good news he doesn’t know what I’m capable of either then.”

At 7 sharp, you were in front of Tyler’s door, waiting for him to answer your knock. You had previously texted Ajax of your arrival, and the poor boy had fled the room as soon as you had informed him you were entering their dorm. He had crossed way with you, eyes avoiding yours at all cost and walking the fastest he could. This made you chuckle slightly, but now you weren’t as amused. If Tyler didn’t respond in the next few seconds, you would blow up his door. Thankfully for him he opened the door just as you were about to lose patience. He looked just as frightened and lost as earlier.

“Hi,” he said in a small voice, “am I on time?”

“You are. Luckily for you,” you observed sharply. “Let’s go.”

He hurried behind you like a lost little boy, following you closely.

“Is there going to be…everyone at the dining hall?” he asked nervously.

You hummed in response, “Nevermore in all its glory. Even the school board if we’re unlucky enough.”

Tyler gulped loudly, “Do they…do they all know what I did?”

“I don’t know pal,” you said with an exasperated sigh, “Probably yeah, I’m not a fucking reporter here.”

And then something you didn’t expect happened: Tyler sobbed. He legit broke down in tears in the middle of the empty corridor, hiding his face in his hands.

“I’m sorry,” he cried, “I’m so sorry for everything that happened, I didn’t want to do any of this.”

At first his reaction slightly took you by surprise. His pathetic display of emotion, full of tears, sobs and shivers was a heart-breaking sight. Even the tremors in his voice could make you shed a tear. But instead, you snickered bitterly.

“OKay that’s enough,” you rolled your eyes, “no one cares about your guilty moods.”

“But I’m so sorry, I truly am,” he sobbed, voice heavy with tears, “I never wanted to do that you have to believe me—”

Grabbing him by the front of his shirt you harshly pulled him down to your height, forcing him to lock his teary eyes in your.

“I don’t believe you,” you seethed, “not about your crimes, for all I bloody care those people are dead anyway. But I’m not buying your little act of the redeeming good boy so cut the fucking crap.”

For a millisecond, Tyler looked so frightened he might have convinced you. But then a wicked grin completely whipped away his tearful expression and his eyes darkened. His mouth morphed into a monstrous, pointy gash with a growl and big clawed hands snaked around yours. Just before his mouth completely turned into the monstrosity that had killed so many people, you headbutted him violently, smashing your forehead against his with all of your might. The unexpected shock definitely took him by surprise and he tottered back, gripping his head with both hands and groaning. The sneaky move had stopped his transformation instantaneously and you didn’t lose a second ducking down and describing a circle with your leg, tripping him off his feet. He crashed loudly on the ground, and before the next groan left his mouth you had jumped on him with a dagger against his throat and a hand gripping his wrist. Straddling him with a knee burying deep on his plexus, your other feet pinned his left arm on the ground.

Breathing heavily, his face had become human again, a few inches from yours, close enough for your breaths to mix together. Some of your hair brushed against his forehead but this apparent intimate atmosphere was radically changed by the cold sensation of your blade against his throat. The slightest twitch of his jaw made you press it harder and almost draw blood, which made him chuckle.

“Well well well,” he rasped in a mocking voice, “That’s not very nice”

“I’m not here to be nice,” you said flatly, “I’m just good at doing my job.”

Tyler let out a low chuckle, “Guess you have it in you after all, doll.”

The light scoff you let out didn’t soften the pressure of your blade, “Guess you still have to learn about consent,” you countered back. “Touch me like that again and I’ll fucking kill you on the spot.”

The grin Tyler let out had nothing to do with the previous crying image he gave you earlier, “What makes you think you’d actually manage to do that?”

Quick as ever a gun suddenly appeared in the hand that was previously tightened around Tyler’s wrist. Barrel pressed against his forehead, he grinned even harder than before.

“Cute toy, had a few more?”

You cocked the gun, the click echoing in the corridor, “I’m sure you’ll love the silver bullets, pretty boy. Should be keeping you down for enough time.”

“Mmmmh, and then what? Gonna slay the monster and burn the house?”

You nodded your head matter-of-factly, “Been there, done that. Routine job really, you’re not that special honey.”

Tyler chuckled slowly and mockingly raised his hands in surrender.

“Alright then, I’m willing to play along. But only because you’ve asked nicely.”

You tried to repress the amused smirk, “I literally have a blade pressed against your throat.”

Tyler shrugged, a smirk still plastered on his face. This made his scars on the cheek look even more ominous. So you leaned even closer to him, whispering in his ear.

“If you ever try to pull this shit again on me, I’ll put a bullet between your eyes, understand?”

With a feral grin, Tyler looked more pleased than ever, “Game on, doll. Game on.”

[Part.2]

A/N: More Ajax screentime? More Ajax screentime. And yesssss bisexual reader bc the raging bisexual in me is simping for that krkrkr

Plus, I love soft Tyler, but you know what’s better? Switch Tyler between soft and feral cocky bastard because yES. Originally I planned to make the Van Helsing reader insert a Xavier x reader story (with some differences in the plot of course), but I’m glad I’ve switched to Tyler. First, it’ll be a more interesting story (I think), and I love to explore writing for other characters! (as long as I’m comfortable with it that is ofc).

I wanted to finish writing chapter 2 before posting this, but eh couldn’t resist krkrkr

If you got the reference from ‘The bodyguard’, I love you

Thanks everyone for reading, I hope you enjoyed this part ♥

Hope you’re all doing okay, take care of you ♥

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